*Three Little Words*
by ducky-doll
Summary: *FINISHED*After a terrible accident no one wants to know Oliver Wood anymore & all turn their backs on him. Only a budding journalist by the name of Hermione Granger takes interest in him. A romance soon blossoms between the pair. Oliver/Hermione, Plz R/R
1. The Cup News

****

"Three Little Words"

Chapter One... 'The Cup News'

The atmosphere was beyond excitement. As Hermione Granger waited nervously for the announcement, people all around her were pacing the room, muttering to themselves, jumping up and down and running around in circles. Hermione's nervous energy wasn't coming out quite in the same form as many of the other people but she was just as nervous, if not more.

"Calm down," said Harry Potter, as she tried to pick up her wallet from the nearby table but dropped in three times before Ron Weasley had to pick it up for her.

"Calm down?" she exclaimed, louder than she had planned. Everybody in the room went silent. You could even hear the tree branches scratching on the glass windows.

"Calm down?" she repeated, a bit more quietly. "They are going to announce it any second now this is my future we are talking about I don't know what to do why aren't they hurrying up what is taking them so long?" All of her sentences were running together. 

Ron patted her on the head. "Don't stress Hermione, look, here they come now!" 

Ron was correct. Just as he said that, three very important Daily Prophet officials made their way to the front of the little room, one holding a green envelope.

Hermione recognised the three people as the editor of the newspaper, Abby Folding and two of the main reporters, Neil Dickson and Bob Berdutt. Biting her well manicured nails, Hermione eagerly awaited the announcement.

Three weeks ago Hermione had been flicking through the Daily Prophet, just the way she normally did every morning while she ate her breakfast. In this particular edition however, there had been a competition about three pages into the paper. They were looking for new talent in journalism and were running a contest for young wizards and witches aged from seventeen to twenty one who wanted to be apart of the Daily Prophet. 

As journalism was something Hermione had been working towards since she could remember, this contest was the perfect opportunity for her. All she had to do was write a 200 word essay on why they should select her. It was just like homework had been at Hogwarts, which she had graduated from just last year.

The winner of the competition would get to report on the Quidditch World Cup which was happening in just one week from now. Ron and Harry wanted Hermione to win too because it would mean they'd get free tickets!

Abby the editor cleared her throat. "Before we announce the winner, I'd like to say a few words," she began. Hermione sighed in frustration. It seemed whenever something this important was to be announced, somebody always wanted to just say 'a few words'.

She felt Harry shift uncomfortably next to her, he was probably equally as frustrated.

"First of all, I'd like to thank you all on behalf of the Daily Prophet, for coming today for the announcement. You should all be proud of yourselves for making the short list."

Abby was cut off by a round of half-hearted applause. Everybody knew that making the short list wasn't a big achievement, it was winning that mattered now.

"Yes, yes, you all did a splendid job. The essays were all hand read by the panel of judges which consisted of myself, and Bob Berdutt and Neil Dickson, a couple of our senior writers. It was a very difficult decision to make as there were so many excellent essays, however we have come up with our final winner. And that person is..."

Hermione grabbed Harry and Ron's hands and squeezed them tight.

"...Hermione Granger!"

There was another round of half-hearted applause. Hermione couldn't help but feel disappointed. Never the less, she had done the best job she could have done and Abby was right... making it onto the short list was great. Still, Hermione was quite upset at herself and felt tears brimming in her eyes.

"Hermione? Is Ms. Granger here?" Abby was holding a hand over her eyes, scanning the crowd for movement towards the front of the room.

"Herms!" Ron nudged her heavily in her ribs. "You won! You won!"

Ron's last words stuck in Hermione's ears. She'd won? She'd actually won? An amazing rush of adrenalin came pumping through her veins, excitement like she'd never experienced before. She was so ecstatic that she felt giddy and the adrenalin couldn't seem to find a way to be set loose. So in the most dignified way she possibly could, Hermione jumped up and down screaming like a five-year-old on red cordial and hugged Harry first, and then Ron, and then both Harry and Ron and the old man standing near them at the same time. 

"Congratulations," people were saying as Hermione made her way through the parted crowd towards the front where Abby and the others were standing. She could feel people patting her on the back and moving away to make room for her and for a moment, she felt like royalty. The other competitors were not being nasty to her at all and none of them were being sore losers... everybody seemed happy for her. It was all a dream come true for Hermione and as she shook hands with Abby Folding, anything seemed possible.

* * * * *

The next day Hermione woke up in her little blue bed wondering whether the previous day's events had been a dream or whether it had actually happened. It was all too much for her to take in at once and the reality of the success had only just sunk in.

Still high on the adrenalin, she leapt out of bed and did a messy and unco-ordinated cartwheel across the pale floor. The carpet was feeling ticklish and not only did her bedroom appear brighter but so did the day. 

At exactly 7 o' clock on the dot that morning, an owl arrived, attached to the Daily Prophet. It read:

__

Dear Ms Granger,

Once again, congratulations on winning! The Daily Prophet staff cannot wait to meet you. 

We hope you have no further plans for today as a chaffeur will be arriving at exactly 8 o' clock ready to take you to the Daily Prophet Head Quarters. After a brief meeting with Sarah Pumpkin, who will be your senior supervisor, you will be sent home with an itinerary so you can pack for the Quidditch Cup. You will need to organise this afternoon who will be accompanying you for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity as not only will you get wonderful seats for the match but you will have backstage passes for you and your chosen friends. 

Looking forward to seeing you soon,

---Abby Folding---

Editor, The Daily Prophet

Hermione had to clasp a hand over her open mouth. First the Quidditch World Cup and next she'd be jetsetting off to Rome and France and exotic countries, reporting on wonderful and undiscovered sights. 

She choked down as much Bertle and Gertle's Marshmallow Bites cereal before running to her office area and dragging out some loose parchment. Without even wasting a second by glancing at the clock she quickly scribbled notes to both Harry and Ron just to let them know what was going on. She'd meet them at 2 o' clock at the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley, to discuss their travel arrangements. By then she would have heard from this 'Sarah Pumpkin' lady, what was happening and they'd be able to confirm things in more detail. 

After sending her owl Snowflake off with the two important deliveries, Hermione raced into her bedroom and quickly went through her wardrobe looking for appropriate apparel. She had always been one of those 'no fuss' sort of girls who didn't really mind how they looked as long as they looked smart and tidy but today was an exception. Today she would be meeting the Daily Prophet staff and today she would need to look breathtakingly stunning yet down to earth yet level headed yet imaginative yet clever and organised without looking too strict and bossy. They were a lot of guidelines to stand by and as she raided her wardrobe she realised she didn't have a single thing appropriate.

Her jeans and sweaters all appeared too casual but her suits were far too formal. In the end, she quickly apparated to Houdini's, a witch dress store, still wearing her silk pyjamas.

"Uh hullo," a saleswoman greeted her as Hermione, glancing at her wrist watch, tore down one of the aisles nearly knocking over a moving mannequin who was sporting the latest catwalk fashions. 

"Hi!" Hermione called over her shoulder, stopping when she reached the section with a big glowing 'Business' sign above.

She sorted through a rack and pulled off a black knee length skirt and sleeveless red shirt. She ran over to another rack and grabbed a nice looking black jacket with fake fur trimmings before running to the saleswoman handing her some coins, yelling 'Keep the change' and apparating back to her home.

When she arrived back, breathless and panting for air, the clock only said 7:28am. Relieved, she slowly got dressed into her new clothes, looked at herself in the mirror and to her surprise she liked what she saw for once.

The outfit made her look smart but still young and fashionable. After all she was only eighteen. She was allowed to look fashionable wasn't she? Hermione slipped on some of her good shoes, brushed her teeth and allowed herself exactly twelve minutes to do her hair and make-up.

By eight o' clock, Hermione was sitting in the kitchen, poring over the Daily Prophet with a cup of coffee and completely ready to go when a strange looking elfish-sort of creature appeared in the window.

"Good morning M'am!" is cheerfully greeted her. "Mind if I come in?"

Hermione, who was too shocked for words, just nodded her head as the greenish creature jumped down onto the sink. 

It was only very small, probably about one and a half feet high with big pointy ears and a long nose. It had a large mouth with only three teeth on the top row and five on the bottom. It's eyes were also large and to Hermione's surprise, bright purple... an almost amethyst colour. It wore a grey pinstripe suit that looked like something out of the muggle 1920's and for a moment, Hermione had to force back giggles as she imagined it smoking a cigar. 

"My name is PW Wokly," it announced, puffing it's tiny chest out like somebody very important. Hermione wasn't sure whether she liked 'PW Wokly' very much at all.

"Uh hullo, my name is Hermione Granger," she replied, taking a step back from it.

"I am your chaffeur for this morning and I will accompany you on your way to the Daily Prophet Head Quarters. Ms. Abby Folding sent me and if you are ready, I'd like to start our journey."

"Oh... sure, uh, Okay... I'm ready," Hermione stuttered. This was something she had definitely not been expecting. PW Wokly sure didn't look dangerous but one thing she had learnt in Hagrid's Magical Creatures class was that you could never trust... well anything!

"Wonderful," PW Wokly pulled out a gold pocketwatch and flipped it open. "Wonderful," he repeated to no one in particular. "We're right on time. Now, if you please M'am, would you step up to the window?"

"The window?" Hermione replied, in extreme doubt. What if PW Wokly was nothing but a joke? Maybe the Daily Prophet staff were somehow watching her right now, having the laugh of their life. Never the less, there was nothing Hermione could do except what she was told even if it was by a short, green, weird looking thing called PW.

PW Wokly waited patiently for Hermione to stand in front of the window and looked at her almost, expectantly.

"Well?" she asked. "What am I meant to do?"

"Oh sorry," PW said. "I thought you knew. Well, concentrate really hard on the glass and visualise the words 'Daily Prophet Head Quarters' appearing on it. Then take a deep breath, close your eyes, say the words outloud and you'll be taken there. It works for any place, just another form of apparation I suppose."

"Why didn't we get taught this at school?" Hermione wondered outloud.

"It's dangerous. Some people can't spell so they end up in all sorts of weird places. The Daily Prophet uses it because it's sort of a test too. You see, if the person can't spell Daily Prophet Head Quarters then they are obviously not going to be a good employee," PW did his best to explain.

"Oh..." Hermione began to get nervous again. What if she ended up in Siberia? What if she spelt it wrong? What if she sneezed or stuffed it all up somehow? What if...

"No need to be nervous," said PW. "I'm right behind you!"

Hermione gave herself a quick pep talk before deciding she liked PW Wokly after all, even if she didn't know his actual name. 

Taking a deep breath, she visualised the words on the clear glass and closed her eyes. 

"Daily Prophet Head Quarters!" she exclaimed clearly and loudly and within a second, something pulled her right into the glass. She thought she was going to crash right into it and opened her eyes for a split second. Instead the glass seemed to melt and inside she went, like some sort of portal to another dimension. She heard PW behind her as promised and together they went tumbling through the rainbow coloured swirls.

It wasn't an uncomfortable ride like Floo Transport always was, but she began to lose sense of where she was facing. After about what seemed like ten minutes but was probably only twenty seconds, the rainbow swirls faded and she landed with a thump on grey carpet. Another thump a second later told her PW had made it too but being more experienced with this system of transport, he didn't land on his rear end like she had.

She quickly stood up to find she had landed right in the middle of the Daily Prophet Head Quarters. 

"Wow," she breathed as she looked all around at the busy, bustling workers. Colourful machines were going at the speed of light, printing and duplicating copies of the paper. There was a distinct smell of owls and when Hermione looked to the right she saw why. Towards the far side of the room was a glass door that she could see led the way into the room that housed all of the owls. Inside there must have been at least a thousand of them, of all shapes and sizes. 

"Welcome to the Daily Prophet Head Quarters," said PW, proudly. "If you'll follow me, I'll show you into Ms Folding's office.

****


	2. The Assignment

****

Chapter Two... 'The Assignment'

The corridors were brightly lit with large poster sized pictures of all of the Prophet's Best Cover issues. People were going in and out of the different rooms that all served different purposes. Ms Folding's office was a long way away and PW gave Hermione a bit of a guided tour as they passed different places.

"Over there is the culinary room... they prepare the staff meals in there.... to the left is the guilding machine which cuts up all of the parchment into readable sized pages... that's Mr Angelo's office, don't go in there I think he keeps a zoo in there... oh and you can't miss that room which is where all the hottest news automatically is delivered... see that machine there, well as soon as something important happens, a location and time is recorded and the reporters go there to see what's happening... and that small room there is MY office. You see, I'm head of the chaffeuring. I get my own office... with my OWN name plaque on the desk," PW added proudly, again puffing out his chest.

"That's excellent," remarked Hermione, meaning every single word she said. She'd never been in a real newspaper HQ before and it was awfully exciting. There was so much to see and so much to learn she had only been in there for five minutes!

"Ah here we are," PW knocked on a glass door. It appeared all of the doors were made out of glass, Hermione wondered if perhaps it was because they could do that 'glass apparation thing' from anywhere. As if reading her mind, PW explained.

"The glass is so we can Glapparate from anywhere yes," he said. "Glapparate is what we did to get here you see," Hermione nodded. "It's also because a couple of years ago, there were these two excellent reporters... Henry Boshwash and Marge Fodds. Anyway, they were caught well... snogging and uhh... doing you know what in their offices on numerous occasions. Turned out that Henry was having an affair and that's why Ms Folding got glass doors installed. That way we can see when someone is working or when they are... are... doing other things."

Hermione peered through the glass door of Ms Folding's office. She couldn't see anybody but then the door opened as if by magic and out of nowhere appeared Ms Folding.

"Ah, Hermione! Welcome!" Ms Folding said. "Please, do come in," she gestured for Hermione to enter. "Thank you PW, I trust the journey was safe and comfortable," she looked at Hermione.

"Yes, it was wonderful. Thanks PW," Hermione replied. 

"Glad to be of service, Ms Folding... Ms Granger," PW bowed and left on his merry little way, obviously off to do more important chaffeuring jobs.

Hermione and Ms Folding sat down opposite each other at her desk. Hermione had never been more nervous... except maybe for the announcement.

"What do you think of the place so far?" Ms Folding said.

"Oh it's wonderful, I am so excited. I have never been in a newspaper headquarters before," Hermione replied.

"Ah, well fresh minds are always important here at the Prophet. So tell me Hermione, is it okay with you if you leave for the Quidditch Cup this time tomorrow?"

"Sure, Ms Folding," Hermione answered eagerly.

"Please call me Abby. That's excellent. You see that way, you can get some wonderful on the spot news of mad fans arriving and also get to talk to some of the players beforehand, you know to interview them about nerves and strategies!" Ms Folding, uhh Abby said.

Hermione nodded, mentally taking notes.

"Now, each day we want you to send us, by owl, a 600 word documentation of the day's procedings except for the actual day of the game. That's when we will be compiling a special four-page liftout where you will need to put together about five thousand words in various sections. You can decide that sections etc. Maybe, some profiles on key players, strategies, mad fans again, you get the point?"

Hermione continued to nod. 

"Excellent, I can see you're going to be something special. Now, one player I want you to put a lot of focus on is Oliver Wood, the keeper for the Puddlemere United side. Have you heard of him?" Abby asked. Hermione had a feeling that Abby was requesting Oliver more for pleasure than business. It was a well known fact amongst the wizarding world that Wood was the most popular Quidditch player among the ladies. He had devilish good looks and was most of all... single. He charmed every female and made all the teenage girls melt.

"Oh ok, sure. I used to go to school with Oliver actually," Hermione thought outloud.

Abby sat forward in her seat, jerking her attention to Hermione. Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Really? Amazing! Truly amazing! Maybe you can get more inside gossip!"

"Perhaps..." Hermione's voice trailed off and she tried looking anywhere but at Abby.

Switching back into business gear after getting over her little 'obsessed-fan' thing, Abby regained her business look posture and returned to normal.

Clearing her throat, she tried not to feel so foolish. "Anyway, as I was saying about the assignment. There is a woman I'd like you to meet. Her name is Sarah Pumpkin, I mentioned her in the owl letter didn't I?"

Hermione nodded. Sarah Pumpkin was going to be her supervisor or something wasn't she?

"Well, I'd like to introduce her to you." Abby pulled her wand out of a drawer in the big desk and pointed it at a strange orange object. Hermione craned her neck around to see if she could get a better look at it and Abby turned it to face her.

"It's a spekabox," explained Abby as Hermione examined the strange shiny orange screen on the front of the rectangular object in front of her. "It is used to communicate around the building. See, watch."

Abby pointed the wand right in the centre of the orange screen before saying, "Spekatome Appensidex!" The Spekabox started glowing, dimly at first but then much stronger, once the glow had turned red, Abby, still holding her wand, said 'Pumpkin, Sarah' and a woman with red hair's face appeared on the screen.

Much simpler than a telephone, thought Hermione, being a muggle born.

The woman who's hair reminded Hermione of Ron's had a roundish, friendly looking face and very noticable dimples. A few light freckles were on her nose and her glasses framed her face nicely. Hermione could tell right away that she liked her. Come to think of it, 'Sarah Pumpkin' seemed a bit like a cross between Harry and Ron!

"Hello," said the woman a big smile on her dial.

"Hello Sarah," replied Abby. "Would you please be able to come to my office? Hermione Granger has arrived," she added with a wink in Hermione's direction. Hermione couldn't help but feel very important.

A moment later Sarah, who was probably about twenty-years-old, arrived with a thud, just in front of the glass door. Hermione assumed she had Glapparated.

"Ah Sarah, this is Hermione Granger, the winner of our competition," introduced Abby as Sarah made her way over to the desk.

"Hullo Hermione" said Sarah, shaking Hermione's hand in a friendly way.

"Hullo," replied Hermione, happily. So far every single person she had met at the Daily Prophet had been very nice and easy to get along with. She only hoped her luck would last.

* * * * *

The meeting went very quickly and before Hermione knew it she was at the Leaky Cauldron, waiting patiently for Harry and Ron who were naturally, fashionably late.

Sarah had been as nice as Hermione had originally imagined and they had planned their itenirary with very little argument. They'd be leaving tomorrow at 9am and arriving at the Quidditch Stadium soon after. They'd unpack at the Daily Prophet tent which was already organised and apparently quite like a 5 star hotel, according to Abby. Hermione, Harry and Ron would have the afternoon off to just have a look at the place, check out anything they wanted to, have a sneak backstage and possibly get to talk to the players as friends before interviewing them later in the week. Hermione, who had never been a big Quidditch fan, couldn't help but feel extremely excited at the possibility of meeting some of the rather handsome players and getting their autographs although she wondered whether that would look unprofessional. Never the less, the more she thought about it the more exciting their adventure was looking!

Harry and Ron stumbled into the Cauldron a few minutes past two, both wearing big grins.

"Hermione!" they greeted, giving her a friendly hug before sitting down at a table in the corner, where they had more privacy to organise their trip.

"Oh, it was so exciting!" gushed Hermione as they waited for the waitress to bring them some butterbeers.

"Well," asked Harry. "Go on, tell us what happened!"

She cleared her throat. "Okay," she began, butterflies in her stomach all over again. "We'll be leaving tomorrow at nine and we get the day to ourselves. I have right here," she pulled three cards out of her jacket pocket, "our backstage passes and Sarah, my supervisor, said we could have a look behind the stadium too! Anyway, we're allowed to talk to players and meet them more like friends before I have to interview them. So really, tomorrow the day is ours to explore! Then after that, the real work starts. As you know, the actual Cup is not until Thursday which gives me a couple of days, including tomorrow, to organise what I'm going to write. Anyway, on Wednesday you guys can do whatever you want but I'll be planning and doing a bit of journalism covering the introduction stuff. Sarah and I have already basically worked out everything but I'll be finalising anyway. On thursday we'll get top-notch seats and be able to watch the game from the best viewing point. After it, we'll go backstage again and interview the players, from both the winning and losing sides and then head on to the after party celebrations!" Hermione took a breath.

Ron was so excited he looked like he might wet his pants. Harry's eyes were bugging out so huge that he looked a bit like a goldfish with black hair. They were both thanking the Great Wizards above that Hermione _was_ such a brain and that she _had_ been such a clever girl at school and won them this great competition.

The butterbeers arrived at Ron lifted up his mug, ready to make a speech.

"To Hermione for being such a wicked friend!" he exclaimed.

"To Hermione!" chorused Harry, raising his glass.

"To me!" Hermione added, toasting hers and feeling rather embarrassed for toasting to herself. 

The rest of the afternoon proceeded with happy chatter amongst the trio who still got along as well as they had since their first year at Hogwarts over seven years ago.

* * * * *

Morning quickly came and before Hermione knew it, she had overslept. Having tossed and turned all night long and not falling asleep until five o'clock that morning, she had finally closed her eyes for what seemed like ten minutes before what felt like a bucket of water came flying on to her, drenching her pillow and pyjamas.

Cursing at the water alarm clock and at herself for sleeping in, Hermione sat up and shook her wet hair like a dog as droplets went everywhere. She looked over her dressing room table to see the time was exactly '8:23' which meant that Harry and Ron would be there any minute.

Having packed at one o' clock that morning hoping that the packing would make her sleepy, all Hermione had to do was get ready. She shoved on the clothes she'd laid out on the end of her bed at 3 o' clock (again hoping it would make he sleepy) she quickly brushed her hair, wished she hadn't used all of her Silver Moon's Famous Hair Straightening Cream the day before and munched down the remains of her Bertle and Gertle's cereal. She brushed her teeth in five seconds flat, just in time to hear a knock at the door. 

She had been so rushed that morning that she had forgotten where she was actually going today she greeted Harry and Ron who were both standing on the doorstep, Ron dressed head-to-toe in orange, obviously ready to support his beloved Cannons and both of them carrying large suitcases (Ron's appropriately orange)

Sarah, who was going to accompany them on their journey, arrived a few minutes later, arrived looking rather smashing in a purple dress. Ron was immediately smitten by her and straight away offered to carry her luggage for her, even though he already had his to manage. Sarah politely declined however thought he was very sweet and the two were quickly lost in conversation about the Cannons however Sarah believed Puddlemere to be a better team. Ron said she only liked them because Wood played for them but Sarah protested saying she thought the team better. This quickly turned into a hot debate so Harry and Hermione shuffled them out of the house locking the door behind them. 

All four of them made their way down the street, struggling with their large cases and looking a little suspicious to any muggles who may have been around. 

They were taking the 'old fashioned' transport of portkeys and luckily for them, they only had to walk a couple of streets before arriving in a big park, with lot's of big trees and bushes around.

The search was on to find what they were looking for, an emptg, squashed soft drink can and soon enough after about five minutes of pottering, Ron held it up triumphant.

They gathered around nervously, each holding their suitcase in one hand and putting a finger on the can with the other. They looked a bit strange all gathered around in a circle but nobody saw them. Finally, as the hand on Hermione's wrist watch turned onto 9 o' clock, they all felt that unforgettable hand sort of reach inside their stomach and jerk them into the portkey.

A few moments later. They arrived at the Quidditch World Cup Stadium.


	3. First Encounters

****

Chapter Three... 'First Encounters'

The atmosphere was already electric as Hermione, Harry, Ron and Sarah (who now made them not a trio, but the Fab Four) made their way across a packed grass area.

Harry fondly remembered the stadium from the first Quidditch World Cup he had been to. Not much had changed, it had a slightly larger seating capacity this year, or so it seemed from the outside and fanatics from both the Cannons side and the Puddlemere side were all gathering around, some trying to buy last minute tickets and others waiting anxiously to find where they would be camping.

The 'Fab Four' didn't have to walk very far with their suitcases as the Daily Prophet tent was located very close to the stadium so the reporter (a proud Hermione) would have easy access for well, everywhere. It was the first tent they reached and pretty much, the most expensive looking one they could see. 

They were all very glad they didn't have to go through the same process as the before. Firstly, the tent was already put up for them, it didn't have a strange smell of cats and although the three-bedroom one they'd shared in the past had been comfortable, this one was like luxury.

Hermione nearly fainted when they first walked in. The outside had been clean, big and appeared like a smaller version of a circus tent (without the rainbow stripes) but the inside was in one word, huge.

They had stepped into the entrance area. Marble floors led in checker-board patterns up to a great big marble staircase complete with water fountain. Workers strolled to and fro various areas of the palace, dressed in black dress robes, similar to that of muggle waiters. Somebody must have put bubblebath in the Hippogriff Fountain as the cement Hippogriff who looked strangely like Buck Beak, was spitting out layers of multi coloured bubbles.

The whole mansion was lit with bright torches that glowed even in the broad daylight. But it was when Hermione looked up that the place looked at it's best. 

The roof seemed never ending and she realised why. At the very top, high above their heads was a beautiful, big glass roof. The staircases led at least twenty stories up and each level looked as glamorous as the last, if not more. 

"It's not glass," explained Sarah who was obviously been here before. "It's actual a form of Unicorn Crystal. It never gets dirty so no one has to clean it and it lasts forever. Pretty neat eh?"

They all nodded in agreement and continued to take in their surroundings.

"Good day M'am," said a familiar high pitched voice.

Hermione looked down at her feet to find no one else but... PW Wokly!!!

"PW!" she exclaimed, happy to see a familiar face.

"PW?" both Harry and Ron looked at each other with quizzical expressions. "You know... that?"

"Yup," replied Hermione, ducking down so she was eye level with PW. "How you been old friend?"

PW grinned his five-tooth grin as his amethyst eyes sparkled. "Nice to see you too, old friend!"

Sarah interrupted this happy reunion by clearing her throat. 

PW looked at her guility before picking up ALL of their suitcases by pointing his finger at them one at a time. Each one individually levitated off the ground and joined the others until they were all stacked in a neat pile about 2 metres off the ground.

"If you'll follow me," PW said, switching personalities so he was the official 'important' chaffeur again. "I will take you to your rooms."

Instead of taking the long staircase way, PW led them to an area with many people around. "Hop in," he gestured towards a large bubble-shaped room. The door slid open and Hermione, Ron, Harry and Sarah stepped inside followed by PW who still had their luggage.

No sooner had they put their last foot in the room did it start levitating, a bit like their luggage.

"Whoah!" cried Hermione, gripping onto Harry's arm in shock and surprise. As the bubble was clear, they watched as the entrance area became further and further away. It reminded Hermione of a story she'd read as a child called 'The Glass Elevator'. She pressed her nose against the glass, or perhaps Unicorn Crystal and watched each level as they passed it. 

"Which level are we staying in?" asked Sarah after a moment of silence.

"The eighteenth," replied PW.

Hermione, Harry and Ron grinned at each other. That would mean they got to ride the Bubble Elevator every day!

Finally they reached the desired floor and waited patiently for PW to guide them out of the Bubble. It didn't happen. Instead, there was a large 'POP!' sound and all five of them found themselves standing on a red carpet mat in the middle of a posh looking hallway.

"Wicked!" said Ron happily as PW led them to the next stage of their exciting journey.

"Ms Pumpkin," he said using a gold key to unlock a big door, which was fortunately NOT made out of the clear glass or Unicorn Crystal. 

"Thank you PW," Sarah replied, taking the key and her luggage from him and entering her private room. From where Hermione was standing she could see it was large and very pretty, quite like the entrance had been. 

"I'll meet you lot at dinner tonight okay?" Sarah said. Ron's face fell. He had obviously been hoping to spend the day getting to know her a bit better.

"Sure," replied Hermione. "Are you sure you don't want to have a look around with us?"

Sarah shook her head. "No thanks, I have a bit of Daily Prophet work to do."

Hermione nodded but felt quite sorry for Sarah. Here the trio were, getting to galevant around and explore, having a jolly time, but Sarah was stuck in her hotel room preparing. She didn't stay feeling sorry for very long though because in no time she was being shown her own room.

And breathtaking it was. PW dropped her luggage near a wardrobe in her room, more like apartment, and handed her a shiny gold key with a 119 engraved on the handle.

"Enjoy your stay," he said and closed the door behind him. Hermione opened the door right away and called Harry and Ron back who were being led away by PW, probably to find their rooms.

"What?" asked Harry, eager to keep moving.

"Well aren't we going to decide what to do?" Hermione replied, her head slightly out of the doorway.

"Why don't we quickly unpack and at," Ron looked at his watch. "At 10 o' clock we'll meet here in your room and get moving on our exploration?"

Harry and Hermione were so impressed by Ron's newfound organisation that they didn't argue. PW urged them all on so Hermione returned fully into her room and for the first time, took a good look around.

The walls were painted a scarlet colour and the room was furnished with matching gold furniture. A comfortable couch was on one side of the room and a small kitchen on the other that appeared to have all of the muggle utensils Hermione was used to PLUS all of the wizarding ones that she had seen in the Weasley household kitchen. From the sitting area there was a gold archway that Hermione curiously walked over to. This doorway led to the bedroom which was almost as big as Hermione's whole house. A gigantic bed was in the middle of the room, gold like the rest of the furnishings. It could fit about five people at least and Hermione got tired and sleepy just looking at it. After examining the room from every possible angle she moved onto the last room in the... mini apartment which was the bathroom. 

It immediately reminded Hermione of the Prefect's Bathroom at Hogwarts which Harry had given her a very detailed outline of. The bath was like a swimming pool, made of white marble. She couldn't help but try each of the numerous taps which predictably shot out streams of different scented and coloured bubbles. There were no paintings on the walls luckily as as Hermione stood there watching the water level increase she wondered what it would be like taking a bath with people watching... even if they were only paintings. 

Fluffy, white towels and bathrobes were already laid out on a padded dressing seat in one corner of the bathroom, next to the basin. Dying to take a bath, Hermione quickly raced back into the sitting area, dragged her suitcase across the floor leaving strange shaped marks on the carpet and unpacked. The wardrobe had looked small but when she opened up the big gold and wooden doors, it turned out to be rather spacious. She practically threw all of her clothes in before undressing and sliding into the hot bath where she stayed for a very long time.

Hermione must have drifted off to sleep at one stage because the next thing she knew she could hear loud banging on the bathroom door.

"Hermione? Hermione?!?!" said someone.

"Hey Hermione, you dead?" said somebody else.

"Oh! Oh!" Hermione sat up, disappointed that she had been woken. "Sorry," she called out. "Hang on a sec." She quickly slid out of the bath, dried herself off and wrapped the warm, cosy bathrobe around her. She knew it was Harry and Ron but she'd left her clothes out in the bedroom so she would have to let them see her in only the bathrobe.

She slid open the bathroom door to find them both sitting on her bed, looking impatient. But the look of impatience disappeared off their faces when they saw her standing there... nearly naked.

__

Come on, Ron told himself. _You're eighteen. Don't go all strange because there is a girl standing there. Who just out of the bath. Who is wearing nothing but a robe. Oh my goodness, what am I thinking? This is HERMIONE! Eww..._

Harry on the other hand didn't let his embarrassment show as much as Ron who's ears turned a dark shade of crimson. Hermione giggled a little before shooing them out of the room so she could get dressed in private.

After slipping on some muggle dark blue jeans and a black skivvy Hermione reopened the doors and joined the boys in the sitting room.

"Come on!" Ron said. "I want to go exploring!" He was beginning to remind Hermione of a hyperactive ten-year-old.

"Yeah, yeah," Hermione replied, grabbing her bag and making sure she had a pen, paper, her room key, money and her muggle mobile phone out of sheer habit.

They left the 'hotel/tent' and couldn't believe how much had changed since just an hour ago. Already the place had at least fifty more tents up and a few hundred people were walking around. Generally it was very noisy.

The trip was put on hold for a minute while Ron raced back to his room (and much to his joy, through the Bubble) to get his backstage pass which he had conveniently forgotten to bring down with him. At last, they were going to meet some stars!

The stadium was even bigger on the inside than how it looked from the outside. There were wizards dressed in work robes doing last minute work on the Quidditch pitch preparing for the next couple of days. The trio were stopped five times by different guards who demanded to see their passes. It seemed there were a lot of other people trying to get in without passes just incase they could sneak a peek at their favourite players.

One half of the arena was decorated in Orange and Black, the Cannon's colours and the other half was in Navy Blue. Hermione began to wonder which side of the pitch they'd end up sitting in because naturally Ron would want to be with the other Cannon Supporters though from what she'd heard, Sarah seemed to be a Puddlemere Lover. She didn't have to wonder for long however because when she looked up she found where they'd be sitting. 

A little silver box was raised high above the other seats, so it was the exact same level as the goals at each end of the pitch. A large 'Reserved Seating' sign was lit and there was a smaller sign below that which said 'Ministry Officials and Daily Prophet Reporters'. Every single one of them felt their jaws drop... they were by far getting the best seats in the house.

After another minute of looking at the inner side of the stadium, Hermione urged them on. There was still so much to see before lunchtime!

They walked around one side of the pitch and found a big red doorway. A big, mean looking guard was standing in front of it. 

"Hello," he said in a squeaky voice. They all had to cover their laughter. Ron was trying not to laugh so hard that he thought his stomach would explode. The meanest and nastiest looking security guard in the entire world sounded like a girl!

"Uhh... hi!" responded Harry who was the only one sane enough to reply.

"What do you lot want?" asked the guard, his voice gruffing up a bit.

"What's through there?" Hermione asked.

"It's the Puddlemere Changerooms," he answered.

"Wicked," said Harry. "Can we take a look?" he added, holding up his all access Backstage Pass.

The guard hesitated for a moment, pulled out some glasses, examined each of their passes and eventually let them through.

Very nervously, the trio went in through the red door and followed the navy blue carpet covered hallways.

The halls were pretty big and Hermione figured they needed to be for a team of rowdy Quidditch players. Posters lined the walls of old famous players and trophy cabinets appeared every four or five metres along. A fluroscent light was flickering and Harry swore he could hear the Puddlemere United themesong, 'Beat Back Those Bludgers, Boys, And Chuck That Quaffle Here' playing dimly in the background. 

It got louder.

Soon enough it became very loud and was joined by a group of out-of-tune voices who sounded like they were having a mighty excellent time.

Harry, Hermione and Ron turned the corridor to see what was happening. Well at least, Hermione thought they did. After realising the voices had infact faded a little, Hermione went to comment on this to Ron.

"Why did it get... quieter?" she asked before realising Harry and Ron weren't standing next to her anymore. "What the?" she turned around in a circle, confused and feeling a bit sick in the stomach.

__

Okay Hermione, she thought to herself. _Don't panic. These corridors are simple to follow. See, I just came from there, no wait, was it there? No, I'm sure... maybe not so sure. Oh dear... No, You're not LOST Hermione! For goodness sake's, YOU do not get lost!_

But the more she thought about it, the more similar the hallway was beginning to look in whatever direction she faced. Hermione eventually decided on running in the direction she thought the music had been coming from but then realised it had stopped playing and there was now a ghastly silence. She began to really panic. Taking a wild guess and praying to the Great Wizards above, Hermione ran blindly in a direction she thought could have been right. She ran straight into something solid. Very solid.

"Arrghhhhh!" she went flying to the ground, the items out of her handbag going flying everywhere.

"Arrghhhhh!" the solid thing screamed too but didn't go flying out of control like she had.

"I'm so sorry!" they both said at the exact same time. Hermione looked up at the 'thing' and realised it wasn't a 'thing' it was infact a very handsome Quidditch player. One she recognised right away. It was Oliver Wood!!!

"Oliver!" she cried.

"Hey, I know you..." he said, holding out his hand and helping her up. "You're... you're Harry Potter's friend aren't you? Hermione! That's right!"

Oliver Wood hadn't lost any of that special charm he had posessed at Hogwarts. Of course he had been a few years older than Hermione so she didn't really know him all that well but Harry had always gone on about him like some sort of legend and every single girl at school had wanted him so Hermione had a fair idea of who he was.

"Yes, that's right," said Hermione slowly, not sure what else to say.

"What on earth are you doing here?" Oliver asked, now on the floor picking up all of Hermione's belongings.

Hermione bobbed down to join him. "I'm reporting on the Cup for the Daily Prophet," she explained reaching for her mobile phone and nearly crying when she realised it was broken.

"What's wrong?" Oliver asked when she let out a pained sigh.

"My phone..." she mumbled.

"Let me see," Oliver took the phone from her. "Oh yes, my cousin has one of these... I'm a muggle born you see... uhuh, right, do you want me to try and fix it? I'm not bad at that sort of thing..."

"Oh no!" Hermione protested. "You are far too busy to do that! No, never mind, I'll just get a new one."

"But they're so expensive!" Oliver replied, genuine sincerity in his brown eyes.

It was true, Hermione couldn't deny that. And living off her part-time job at Blodgepatcher's Bakery didn't give her a very high salary especially seeing as she was only eighteen. It had taken a few weeks to earn enough to buy the phone, not to mention the cost of calls.

"Well okay," she replied hesitantly. "But only if you're sure... It was my own fault I broke it."

"No it wasn't," he waved his arm around. "Completely my own. Wasn't watching where I was going."

"Neither was I," admitted Hermione. "I'm not sure where I am right now to tell you the truth. I was with my friends Harry and Ron, oh you would know Harry of course, and then I wasn't all of a sudden and I began to get worried and..."

Oliver interrupted her. "And thank goodness I came along to break your mobile phone. Oh well, at least I can try and fix it for you and I can sure you the way too."

She smiled gratefully at him. "I'd like that a lot, thank you."

Well she had to admit something. Oliver Wood was not how she had imagined him. Besides from his Quidditch talent and amazingly good looks, he was a very normal person. Rather a gentleman and very kind, not at all how she had expected.

And Hermione was not how Oliver had imagined either. He couldn't believe she was still excellent friends with Harry and Ron. Those three had been inseperable at Hogwarts, he remembered fondly. Now all grown up Hermione was quite a nice girl and by the sounds of it, she had a good future to look forward to as well.

Walking and talking the whole way back to the changerooms Oliver pushed open a navy blue door. Stepping inside before Hermione he clapped his hands over his mouth to make a funnel shape and yelled, "Any one naked? There is a lady present!"

Somebody else responded with, "The only lady I see is Wood!" before a round of laughing went up including Oliver even though he had been the centre of the joke but then somebody else said, "Ladies welcome, no bare skin round here!" so Oliver allowed Hermione to enter further in. The first thing she noticed was the smell of deoderant followed by the sense that all eyes were on her.

"Good day Miss," one of the men said as he wiped a hand on his pants and then held it out for her to shake. Hermione nervously took it and smiled. "Hello."

There was a bout of introductions that Oliver quickly made and Hermione recognised all of them due to her extensive research on both playing Quidditch teams. 

Pat Podder and Eric Raggles were the Beaters, Bom, Tom and Michele Patterson were the Chasers (Michele had joined them when she'd heard somebody say 'lady' from her own dressing room as she was the only female) and the seeker was Hugh Boggs, a young player like Oliver, who was probably only about nineteen. 

After everybody shook hands, they began firing the questions. They seemed a bit suspicious of Hermione when they found out she was a reporter but after Oliver assured them that she wasn't a nasty one that twisted things around, they warmed to her and were soon inviting her to share a Butterbeer with them after dinner that night. She gratefully accepted the offer and asked Oliver quietly if it would be okay if Harry, Ron and possibly Sarah joined them too. Hermione was surprised at how well she and Oliver, and the rest of the team, were getting on. They were all such normal people who just had different jobs to the average wizard or witch. Hermione then scowled herself for imagining anything different. Oliver assured her that bringing friends was fine and that the Puddlemere team loved meeting any new people.

They continued chatting for another twenty minutes before Hermione realised she oughta find Harry and Ron and was saying her farewells when a big, strong looking man entered the changeroom followed by Harry and Ron who looked a bit scared.

"Oi, you know this lot?" he boomed over the top of everyone else.

Oliver nodded and gave the boys each a 'manly' hug (more like a pat on the back). "They're my friends Coach."

'Coach' looked them up and down and then noticed Hermione who was backing away a bit.

"Uh hullo, young lady," he said. "Didn't see you there. Wood, is she a friend of yours too?"

Oliver nodded again. "Yep, that's Hermione and these two are Harry and Ron. We all go back awhile."

"Okay," the coach seemed satisfied with the answer. "As long as you know them. Don't want no Cannon spies around here." He bid goodbye to them all and left the changerooms.

"Don't mind him," Michele said to Harry, Ron and Hermione. "He's a little paranoid about the whole spying and stealing tactics thing. We just ignore him."

"But he is a good coach," explained Bom. "He just tends to get a little over excited sometimes."

Ron and Harry weren't saying anything. They were so starstruck that Harry just nodded and Ron gave out a rather strange gurgling noise. Glancing down at her watch, Hermione realised that they shouldn't be wasting too much of the team's time and hurried Harry and Ron out of the changerooms after saying goodbye to the team again.

Disappointed and saying it was unfair, Ron was kicking up a fuss. "Not fair!" he exclaimed when they were out of earshot from the players. "You got to talk to them for ages! We didn't!"

"Don't worry!" Hermione replied, rolling her eyes. "We're meeting them later on okay? After dinner? With Sarah?"

Ron's eyes lit up. Seemed all his Christmas's were coming at once. He may have been a Chudly Cannons fan but meeting any Quidditch players was enough to make him happy.

Deciding they had had enough walking and talking for the day, or at least until dinner, they wandered back to the hotel and went off into separate rooms. Harry went into Ron's room as they were going to 'Talk Quidditch' so Hermione decided to pay a visit to Sarah, who she felt sorry for again.

Author's Note: You can't criticise me for making my chapters too short any more. This one took me forever to write. Please review! Please, please review!


	4. The Mystery with Sarah

Chapter Four... 'The Mystery with Sarah'

Hermione knocked loudly on Sarah's door. She barely had to wait as Sarah opened the door, surprised to see her standing there, very quickly.

"Hi Hermione!" Sarah exclaimed.

"Hullo," replied Hermione. "Busy?"

"Not at all," said Sarah, opening the door wider so Hermione could fit through.

Sarah's room was identical to Hermione's. As she had a quick look around she noticed it had nearly exactly the same furnishings except that unlike Hermione's scarlet and gold room, Sarah's was purple and silver. 

"So what brings you here?" Sarah asked, sitting down on a big couch and gesturing for Hermione to join her.

"Just thought I'd drop in to say hello."

"Did you go exploring?" she asked curiously.

Hermione nodded. "Yes, it was excellent. Infact, I met the whole Puddlemere United team and we're going out for butterbeer tonight after dinner. Oliver said I'm welcome to bring along any friends. Want to come?"

Hermione thought this was a kind gesture and she purposely dropped Oliver's name. After all, she was sure if Oliver was mentioned Sarah would love to go. After all, every girl loved Oliver right?

Sarah looked away from her. "Uh... I think I'm busy," she said shortly.

"Oh," Hermione's face fell. She had been looking forward to Sarah's company and knew Ron had been too. Oh dear, he would be upset now.

"But Ron..." her voice trailed off.

"Ron?" Sarah asked. "What about Ron?" Hermione noticed her face turning red.

"Well you know..."

"No I don't. What about Ron?" she demanded, her voice louder than usual and she scared Hermione for a second.

"Well, it's just that I think Ron might fancy you a bit," Hermione tried to be reasonable. She would have thought Sarah was flattered that somebody fancied her.

"Why would he fancy me?" she exploded and loudly.

Hermione stood up. "I don't know!" she was getting rather annoyed at Sarah's sudden outburst now. "You aren't exactly hideous to look at are you? Infact you're rather pretty. You're nice. You're young. You're the sort of girl Ron would go for and he might possibly fancy you. If you have a problem with that then you're..." she tried to think of the right words. "... weird!"

Sarah's expression changed. "I'm sorry Hermione," she said quietly, looking at a patch of mauve carpet. "I don't know what got into me."

Hermione sat down again. "That's alright," she replied a bit confused. "Anything bothering you?"

She got a sigh as an answer. "Sort of."

She waited for Sarah to keep talking. But she didn't. "Oh I see... do you want to talk about it?" A part of Hermione wanted to wring Sarah's neck. She couldn't say something like that and then not explain or elaborate. That just wasn't fair. 

"Well," Sarah looked back up at Hermione who was waiting. "I can't go out with Ron," she admitted.

"Why not?"

"It's not that I don't want to. I mean, I doubt he fancies me anyway but if he did... just say he did... though he probably wouldn't... infact, I know he wouldn't..."

"Don't be modest just tell me!" Hermione was getting very impatient as she often did.

"Sorry," Sarah returned to the subject. "I couldn't because... because..." she paused. A single tear managed to escape her tightly closed eyes, viewable to Hermione who moved closer and put an arm around her. Sarah shrugged her off and stood up. "I'm sorry!" she ran out of the room leaving Hermione sitting there on her own.

* * * * *

Once Hermione had returned to her room she sat down on the massive bed and thought. Why had Sarah been so upset? What did Ron have to do with it? There were so many questions running through her mind that she didn't know where to begin to process them. So Hermione resorted to what she did best... she wrote them down. 

**__**

Sarah

1. Why didn't she want to come to have Butterbeer with the Puddlemere Players?

2. Why can't she let herself go out with Ron?

3. Does she fancy Ron?

4. Does Ron fancy Sarah?

5. Why did she change moods so quickly and become so hot tempered?

All of these questions Hermione endeavoured to find answers to. The day's events had been so strange and in some cases, exciting that she had forgotten all about lunchtime. Looking up on the wall a little clock was pointing to the 'You Missed Lunch' sign and Hermione felt her stomach rumble at the thought. How much she'd kill for a toasted cheese sandwich.

Instead though, she pulled out a menu which was lying conveniently on the bed side table (who knows why!) and began to read.

She eventually decided on Spaghetti Carbonara (A/N: Sean Biggerstaff's fave food!) and held out her wand hand. After repeating a simple spell and naming her choice off the menu, a bowl of hot, steaming spaghetti appeared miraculously on the bedside table. After ordering a drink and some garlic bread as a side dish Hermione wolfed it all down as if she hadn't eaten for days. 

* * * * *

Dinner arrived sooner than they all realised. At 6pm, there was a knock on Hermione's door. She peeked through the eyehole and saw a formally dressed, PW Wokly standing there looking around. Opening the door, she greeted him.

"Hey PW!"

"Good day Madam Hermione. Dinner is being served in an hour, I have been sent to notify you. There are some guests joining you at your table tonight. You will be seated with your friends, Mr Potter, Mr Weasley, Ms Pumpkin and a few others that Mr Potter arranged for earlier this evening. I have also been told to pass on the message that the dress code for this evening is formal. Very formal." PW recited this like a speech, which he probably had memorised.

"Thanks PW," said Hermione, making sure she remembered everything. Guests? Who would be joining them, she wondered. Perhaps more people from the Daily Prophet had arrived and she wasn't aware of it yet. She had dozed off after that Carbonara after all. "Will you be joining us?" she asked PW.

He shook his head. "No, I have a date!" he blushed.

"Aww PW, I'm so happy for you," gushed Hermione. "Well tell me all about it tomorrow!"

"Will do," said PW. "Bye Ms Hermione!"

Hermione returned to her wardrobe and immediately regretted just throwing everything in that morning. Why oh why didn't she just take the extra time to organise it and hang the clothes properly? She always did that. Regretted stuff.

Pulling every item out of the wardrobe she scowled herself for being such an idiot. Luckily, she didn't have to worry about finding the right outfit. For a muggle formal party she had gone to last year for her cousin's formal birthday party, Hermione's mother had shouted her a lovely long dress. It was made out of black fabric with a bit of glitter through it, and had a high neck and was sleeveless. It ran straight down to the ground and made Hermione's body seem like it had more shape than it really did. She put it on quickly and did a bit of make-up. A new copy of 'A Witch's Life' magazine had been on the coffee table in the sitting room and inside it had had a guide to doing fancy make-up. The magical alternative to muggle make-up was luckily a lot simpler. All you had to do was get a few simple spells right which Hermione had always been good at anyway. 

By six thirty she was raring and ready to go. She grabbed her handbag which she added a bottle of Hair Straightening Cream to (she had bought more that day) and went to pick up her mobile phone. She then remembered she'd given it to Oliver to mend and that made her think about the butter beers later on. She couldn't really go out in this outfit could she? It was so formal. Maybe she'd have to change. Especially if they were going to a place like The Leaky Cauldron or the Three Broomsticks. 

As she made her way to the Bubble Elevator Hermione began to think about Sarah. She wondered where she was and how she was feeling now. Perhaps Hermione shouldn't have pressured her so much. She would have told her if she really wanted to. 

The Bubble trip went much smoother this time seeing as Hermione expected the 'POP!' at the end. The dining area was on the second floor and by the time she arrived there, many other people staying in the tent were there and seated. Hermione wandered over to the double doorways where she was greeted by who she assumed was a waiter.

"Good evening Madame," he said with a lovely smile on his face.

"Good evening," replied Hermione acting like a queen all elegantly dressed up and feeling like a million dollars! She bowed her head slightly to add to the effect.

"Your name please?" he asked.

"Granger, Hermione," she replied grandly. He scanned down the list of people he had, found her name, ticked it off and led her to a table which was already occupied with only two seats left.

The dining room was classy and beautiful. Hermione felt like she was on an expensive cruise ship or eating with royalty. Everything was glittery and matched the white and beige decor. Faint classical music was playing in the background and there was a scent of roses present. To her great surprise she noticed Harry and Ron sitting at the table... dressed in suits!

"Guys!" she gasped, nearly dropping her handbag.

They all laughed, now over the poshness of their attire. Who gave a damn who looked classy and who didn't? Still giggling, Hermione took her seat in between the two. It wasn't until she rested her handbag on the floor under her seat and looked up that she realised who was sitting with them.

It was Oliver Wood and Pat Podder. Both dressed equally as formal as Harry and Ron.

"Oh wow," was all Hermione could say. She looked around and realised that ALL eyes in the dining room were on Oliver and Pat. Both looked very charming and even Hermione, who believed looks didn't matter that much, had to admit that Oliver looked... amazing.

Oliver thought the same of Hermione. He hadn't thought she looked terrible today when they had met earlier but she hadn't been a supermodel. Tonight however, was a different story. Tonight she looked ladylike and glamorous.

As they spent the evening, chatting and talking, Oliver couldn't help but look out of the corner of his eyes at Hermione at every possible chance. But she didn't notice. She was too busy wondering why Sarah hadn't joined them. There was even a space on Oliver's left and Ron's right for her to sit. It wasn't until dessert was about to be served that Sarah did appear, looking very lovely but with very noticable tear marks around her eyes.

Luckily, nobody made any remarks about them and all just acted happy and cheerful as if they hadn't noticed them. Hermione had enough sense not to say anything either and Sarah acted just as bubbly polite as she usually was. But nobody could say they didn't notice the tension on Oliver and Sarah's end of the table.

After the dirty dessert plates had been cleared off, people started making their way out of the dining room. Eventually it was just their table left.

"So are we off to get butterbeers now?" asked Pat. "Let's go party people!"

Ron and Harry appeared to also be in a bit of a party mood and were eager to be on their way too.

"I think I might have a quiet night in," said Sarah, standing up from the table. "Night all," she said before quickly disappearing out of sight.

"Is something wrong with her?" asked Ron.

"I don't know," said Hermione exchanging worried glances with Harry.

Oliver cleared his throat. "Let's forget Sarah for awhile, I'm sure she will be fine and talk about what is bothering her when she decides to. How about we hit the town tonight though and have a bit of fun!"

The prospect of having a fun night on the town excited Hermione to a great extent but a little part of her knew she wouldn't have the best night possible because she'd be worried about Sarah. Still, Oliver was right. There was nothing that they could do so they might as well have fun while they could.

Hogsmeade became the group's destination seeing as they call had fond memories of it from Hogwarts, except for Pat of course however his younger sister had gone to Hogwarts and told him all about it so he was curious to see what the fuss was about. They apparated right out the front of the Three Broomsticks but decided to put a hold on the butterbeers for now and just go and have a bit of fun first.

Hermione had to admit she felt a bit odd being the only girl there but she was used to it having spent a lot of time with just Ron and Harry at school. She felt even more odd however all dressed up and going somewhere like... Hogsmeade.

They wandered the brightly lit streets for awhile and laughed and joked around. It was a fantastic and relaxed time for all involved.

After visiting Zonko's Joke Shop and a new sweet's shop that had recently opened called 'Magical Mints and Other Things' the mood dimmed down a bit. They had spotted Pat's girlfriend Mackie passing them and she had joined the group for their night adventure, even though she looked a bit strange in her jeans and windcheater. The atmosphere was now more calm and soothing and she and Pat were walking together distanced back a bit. Harry and Ron were up ahead chatting wildly about the games centre they were on their way to which left Hermione and Oliver in between, walking and doing not much talking.

"You enjoying the Cup so far?" Oliver asked.

"Sure," said Hermione. "A lot has happened in one day and we haven't even had the match yet!"

"Yep, I love this time of the year nearly as much as I love Christmas."

They walked along in silence again, taking in the sounds of other people walking around happily and talking and the ringing of children laughing. As the cold wind blew on Hermione's bare arms she found herself wondering what it would be like for Oliver to have his arm around her. She didn't realise Oliver was thinking the same thing.

__

Hermione! she told herself off. _You're here to become a wonderful journalist and do a job you have wanted to do forever. Not to fall madly in lust with a Quidditch player!_

Soon enough they reached the Games Centre and headed inside where they attracted a lot of attention being the most dressed up people within a mile. Kids hanging around instantly recognised Oliver and Pat and rushed to get their autographs. Hermione, Ron and Harry stepped out of the frenzied mob of excited people and waited for Oliver and Pat to finish signing things and answering numerous questions.

After awhile the crowd died down and they were able to have a go at a few different games. One required Harry and Hermione to put on special robes, similar to invisibility ones, but enchanted with a flying spell. They had to float around above Ron, Oliver, Pat and Mackie who had to try and shoot them with special wands.

In another game, everyone had to hide in a dark fun house while Ron and Mackie hunted them down. At one stage in the evening, they decided to try the Virtual Reality game where they entered a magical system where they became players in a video-game like program. It was the most realistic thing Hermione had ever done before and was actually dangerous so each of them had to wear special communication belts and memorise a spell that would transport them out if they got in serious trouble.

Nobody did get in any trouble but they all had a very good time. They were cracking up laughing when they came out of the game all laughing at different things such as when Ron slipped over in a virtual puddle and when Mackie's top blew up in virtual wind. 

As they left the Games Centre Hermione realised something very important. This had been the happiest night she could remember ever having and she never wanted it to end.


	5. The Accident

Chapter Five... 'The Accident'

Of course all good things must come to an end and as the morning sun started rising, Hermione began to realise just how tired she was.

"Gosh, you lot have to catch up on your sleep," she remarked to Pat as they wandered out of the Three Broomsticks ready to apparate back to the Quidditch area.

He nodded. "We're not actually allowed to go out all night..." he said with a cheeky grin on his face. Hermione looked over at Oliver who was also grinning.

"But..." she trailed off.

"But what?" Oliver asked, laughing. "We just told our coach we would be going to a dinner and then off to do some night time Quidditch training."

"Night time Quidditch training?" Harry's eyes were wide with curiosity. He was still quite a player even though he had no plans to become a professional.

Pat smiled. "It's so much fun! We have these cool balls that are bewitched to glow and we use them at night time. Improves concentration and makes everything more difficult," he explained.

Harry was becoming quite enthusiastic about the idea of night time Quidditch and he, Ron and Pat made a deal to have a bit of a muck around one time that Ron only agreed to if Pat went easy on them. 

"Well goodnight," Hermione said when they had apparated back. 

"Good morning," everyone replied, still a little hyper from the butter beer and games centre. They all drifted off into their own direction ready for a very good and long sleep. The second Hermione's head hit the pillow, she went straight to sleep, not even changing into her pyjamas or taking her make-up off.

* * * * *

The first thing Hermione heard when she woke up was the sound of something scratching. She slowly sat up and realised what it was. An owl was perched outside on the window ledge and was scratching impatiently to come inside.

Hermione rushed out of bed (nearly tripping over her shoes which she'd just dumped on the floor) and opened the window. A pretty brown owl came flying inside, spreading it's large wings wide and making itself comfortable on the bedside table. Hermione grabbed some owl-treats that had been provided complimentary by the hotel tent and fed them to the owl before it let go of whatever it had been holding and flew off again.

As soon as she picked up the brown paper wrapped package, Hermione knew just what it was. Her mobile phone. She quickly unwrapped it and found that it was working like brand-new again.

"Thanks Oliver," she said to herself before picking up the little note attached. In scrawly, quick hand writing it read:

__

Dear Hermione,

Hope this helps you! I'll try not to crash into unsuspecting innocent victims again. Must catch up on sleep now... had a great time. Look forward to seeing you at the game.

-Oliver-

Smiling, she placed the now-working mobile next to her handbag, ready to take out with her. She glanced up at the clock which told her she'd slept all the way through lunch. 

__

Oh my goodness, thought Hermione. _The news report!_

She quickly ordered up some plain toast with butter and sat down at her desk. She had to have this first report ready for tomorrow's paper. She wondered how Sarah was doing and what she was up to. Again she felt terribly sorry for her as she had barely been outside of her room. She wondered what the Daily Prophet could possibly have had her working so hard on. But she didn't have time to think about these sorts of thing. Hermione had to write and she had to write fast!

Holding a sugar quill, poised on the parchment Hermione's thoughts began to wander again. She found herself wondering what Ron and Harry were up to. Had they slept in too? Perhaps they were off with Pat and the rest of the guys again today? What if she was missing out on some big scoop by just sitting all on her own in her room?

__

No, Hermione lectured herself strongly. _MUST concentrate._

Concentrating proved harder than first thought however and over the next three hours, Hermione managed to barely jot down the basics of her report. It took a whole seven hours of non-stop work to finally get the report written and by the time it had been done, not only was her wand-arm very. very sore but she had a seriously terrible headache. 

Hermione stood up from the desk and felt every vertebrae in her spine crack, one at a time. She walked around the room for a minute, stretching muscles that were hurting and finding she had muscles in places she didn't know existed. Reaching into the bathroom cabinet, she pulled out a small bottle of 'Mr. Twinkle's Aches and Pain Pills'. Swallowing two of the weird tasting green capsules, she sat down at her desk again, carefully making sure she was in a different position to before.

She re-read what she had written.

****

Cup Fever

-Hermione Granger-

The Quidditch World Cup is here and wizards and witches from all over the world are uniting as one to celebrate it. Though the actual match is still a day away, people have been travelling from opposite sides of the country to get good camping spots and have been getting ready to cheer on their favourite team.

Officials from the Association of Quidditch have been astonished by the record beating crowds already here at the Cup Grounds. Mr. Thomas Grinchly, President of the Puddlemere United team says, "We are all well and truly surprised at the pre-game turn out. Supporters have really got together this year to set a new crowd record and are really cheering as one."

Mrs. Beth Bretts, the Cannons Secretary agrees. "I believe this will be our most successful year. We have already raised a number of funds just from selling the Colour-Changing Team Balloons. It seems parents are also more willing to bring along the little ones and they're having a ball running amuck."

It seems everybody is happy with no sign of trouble on the horizon. When asked, the Puddlemere United players all said they thought the more the merrier. The Chudley player also agreed. It appears that this year, nothing is going to go wrong. The weather is fine and sunny, the players uninjured and happy, the crowds larger and excited. Could it be too good to be true? We'll soon find out!

Hermione sighed. It was not her best work at all. But for now, it was all she could do. So hesitantly rolling the parchment up and tying it with a piece of string leftover from Oliver's delivery, she attached it to Snowball and sent her off to Abby at the Daily Prophet HQ. She only hoped it was good enough.

She tried not to be too disappointed at her day's events. Though it felt like a very big waste of a day Hermione had to try and convince herself that it had been boring yet productive. She had just written her first article for the newspaper but it just didn't feel right. Like something was missing. Some sort of drive and ambition. The spark that always made her write. Such as when she'd entered the original competition she'd stayed up for days on end trying to perfect what she'd written. And now she had won and been given an awfully wonderful chance, she wasn't using it to her best advantage. What if Abby noticed? What if she was kicked off the job. Hermione instantly wished she could get Snowball to bring the article back but it was too late. Her owl was probably halfway there by now. No... it was her fault. She would just have to improve the next article. If she was given one that is.

* * * * *

A big siren sounded the next day, very, very early in the morning. Hermione jumped out of bed, thinking it was a muggle smoke alarm and proceeded to crawl on hands and knees down the corridor. A very amused Harry and a very confused Ron poked their heads out of their room doors and stared at the strange sight.

"Hermione?" Ron said. "Are you okay?"

"What?" Hermione stood up when she realised she had gained a lot of attention from her cat-acting. "Oh... sorry... thought it was... well... never mind."

Harry who understood completely what she had been thinking, pushed her back in her room to get ready. "Come on Herms," he urged. "Get ready, we have a huge day ahead of us. Particularly you do. Remember?"

Suddenly coming back down to earth, Hermione remembered today was the BIG day and practically slammed the door in Harry's face and got ready in record breaking time. She grabbed all of her belongings (including her mobile phone) and rushed outside to meet the others for breakfast. To her surprise (although she had to wonder why she was surprised) Sarah was out there too.

"Hello Sarah," greeted Hermione uncertainly. 

"Hullo Hermione!" chirped Sarah who appeared quite happy.

Everybody in the dining room was stuffing down their breakfast and talking excitedly about the day. There was so much to do and so little time. The game was due to start at exactly eleven past ten and it was already nine thirty. 

"I can't believe it," said Ron between mouthfuls of egg. "I wish Fred and George were here. They would have loved it."

"I agree," said Harry. He didn't say anything else because he didn't have time to.

After wiping the crumbs away from her mouth, Hermione stood up raring to go. She grew impatient with Harry and Ron who weren't quite as punctual and they darted to the stadium. Sarah guided them up through a stairwell that was there for their use and only their use and about ten minutes later they found themselves standing in the highest view point in the whole arena. The Grand View Box.

"Wicked," breathed Ron taking a seat front row, centre.

"Very wicked," agreed Hermione sitting down next to him. Everyone else found their seats and began to play with the special gadgets sitting in the gadget tray in front of them. Ron and Harry immediately pulled out their omnioculars and began to experiment with the knobs but Hermione and Sarah picked up their special VIP gadgets.

The first thing Hermione pulled out was a pair of light blue ear muffs. Thinking they were there to keep her ears warm, she put them on. And took them off. Sarah had to laugh. 

"They're called Whistlewashers," she tried to explain to Hermione. "They just about quadruple the sound of the commentary so the old people can hear it. You see, a lot of the people who sit up here in the Grand View Box are pretty much in their three-hundreds. They get a little deaf and the Whistlewashers come in handy. Guess they're not quite designed for our age eh?" she laughed.

Hermione nodded, rubbing her ears. She decided to play it safe and just fiddled with the Omnioculars like the others. After a moment Ron and Sarah went to "buy drinks" which left just Harry and Hermione sitting up in the Grand View Box.

Harry had just opened his mouth to say something when a loud voice came over some of the speakers. 

"WELCOME TO THIS YEAR'S QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP- PUDDLEMERE UNITED VERSUS THE CHUDLEY CANNONS!"

The crowd went wild! Hermione started taking notes immediately, she planned to jot down every single thing that happened during the match. _Wonder where Ron and Sarah are_, she thought as she scribbled down the name of the commentator and where in the stadium he was sitting for future reference.

A whistle was blown and the game began!

Hermione and Harry sat back and watched gobsmacked, they couldn't believe what Ron and Sarah were missing. They had thought Quidditch couldn't have got better after the Bulgaria versus Ireland game but this was just... amazing.

They spotted Pat and Oliver flying around and Hermione got up and cheered. But Puddlemere weren't that far ahead of the Cannons... actually the Cannons were quite good. Just as good.

Their beaters were very strong and sent a bludger flying towards Eric a number of times. Each time he had the sense to duck but they were quickly gaining. It was five minutes into the game and already the Cannons had 30 points. They had been known as a pretty old and useless team but the new players seem to have brought back that old Chudley spirit.

Hermione could practically see the beads of perspiration on Oliver's face as he carefully watched for any quaffles near the goal rings. He was beginning to stress and Hermione and Harry realised that Puddlemere hadn't expected the Cannons to be quite this good.

Though she could hardly manage to take her eyes away from the Omnioculars, Hermione thought she better go find Ron and Sarah... perhaps they had gotten lost or the queues for drinks was very long. Either way, she told Harry she'd be right back and ran down the stairs faster than ever in her life and started looking for the lost pair.

The corridors were pretty full of people and Hermione had to keep standing up on her toes to try and look over people's heads. 

__

Why aren't you all watching the game! she thought angrily as she pushed her way through the hundreds of people.

After awhile she realised everyone was heading in pretty much the same direction so she allowed herself to be taken with the flow. Then she realised why. She was now standing in the open seating area of the Quidditch arena. The cheaper seats as they were lower down and didn't have as good of a view as the top boxes. Hermione was standing on the ground level, calling out for Ron and Sarah when it happened.

A loud scream was heard over everything as a Chudley Cannons player smashed a bludger right in the direction of Oliver Wood. Even Wood was not quick enough to dodge this one and it went straight into his stomach and sent him spiralling, spiralling down towards the grassy ground where he landed smack on his side. 

The whole stadium was silent and nobody could say they didn't hear the crunching of the bones that must have broken in Wood's body as he landed. Hermione watched on in horror along with everybody else around the world as Wood lay there unconscious.

Hermione waited for paramedics or _somebody_ to come running on the pitch but nobody seemed to move. Without thinking, she ran blindly onto the pitch, hurdling over people and objects in the way. She hardly heard Sarah's scream from somewhere near the drinks stand as she called for Hermione to come back.

Her footsteps echoed through the stadium as she thumped her way on the grass. 

"WHY ISN'T ANYBODY HELPING?" Hermione screamed angrily, turning round and round in circles, looking desperately for any sign of movement. Movement came eventually and nearly satisfied, she squatted down next to Oliver's body.

"Oliver?" she whispered coarsely, patting his face. "Oliver?" she said more loudly, this time practically slapping him. But Oliver was gone out cold. His whole body was limp and lifeless. She put two fingers on his neck looking for a pulse. But she couldn't find one.

Author's Note: I know I changed the Quidditch Cup things quite a lot (the country's mascots for example) but I did that so I could hurry the story up a bit. I mean you all know what really happens at the Quidditch World Cup so you didn't need to hear it all again too. 

By the way, thanks for the great reviews! Please check out a story I have co-written with NiKiTa-G. It's called 'A Head Start' and is under her penname. 


	6. Replacing a Star

Chapter Six... 'Replacing a Star'

Oliver's eyes slowly opened and he found himself staring up at the white ceiling. _Where in the world am I? _he thought and went to sit up. He clenched his teeth in pain as he tried to move and found he pretty much couldn't because of the pain. Then the vaguest of memories started appearing in his mind. Chudley... Bludger... Spinning...Blackness. 

"I see you've joined the real world again," said a familiar voice from beside Oliver. He did his best to turn his head and did so slightly. He managed to see who was next to him by also rolling his eyes to the very sides. He found it was his Puddlemere Coach. Beside him, was a young boy who looked no older than eighteen.

"Hello," croaked Oliver.

"Hello," replied his coach with no expression in his voice whatsoever. "I'd like to introduce you to Sandford, Tim Sandford."

Oliver stared at the young boy with curiosity. Who was this Sandford boy? Why was he sitting here next to his side. _What on earth was going on?_

"Who are you?" Oliver struggled to say and found the small exercise of just speaking made him breathless. His throat… it was so parched!

"Wood, I really hate having to do this," began the coach with no sign of sympathy in his tone at all. "But you're off the team. Sandford is our new keeper," he stood up quickly and started walking towards the door. Before he left the room though, he turned around. "Oh and I hope you make a good recovery." Sandford followed the coach but didn't look too happy. "Sorry," he muttered guiltily at Oliver before continuing out of the room.

Oliver didn't know what to say. Off the team? This had to be some crazy dream. He tried with all his might to life just one hand to pinch himself but the effort was just too much. He sighed before closing his eyes tightly. He just wanted his coach's words to just take themselves back. This just couldn't be happening to him. 

No sooner had Oliver closed his eyes when someone entered the room and closed the door loudly causing Oliver's head to throb with pain. _Ouch, ouch, ouch_, he thought but didn't say anything outloud.

"Hello Mr. Wood," said a stern sounding man. Oliver opened his eyes slightly and saw a man standing in a white coat next to him, peering over every inch of his body. Self consciously he tried to curl up a bit but found he couldn't move his legs.

__

What is going on? He thought to himself in his head. He must have said it out loud though because the man began to speak.

"I couldn't help but over hear your coach talking just a few minutes ago and I must say I'm terribly sorry to hear about your… uh… early retirement. Anyway, my name is Doctor Shirlington and I am going to be helping you through the next few months."

"Months?" wheezed Oliver.

Doctor Shirlington nodded. "Afraid so. You have some serious damage to your body and bone structure Oliver."

"Where am I?" Oliver's mind was racing. Serious damage. No more sport. No more exercise. No more… no more _Quidditch._

"The London Hospital of Magical Injuries."

"Oh," Oliver's face fell. He knew it was bad now.

The Doctor must have sensed that he needed time to himself now and all of this was coming in one great big rush so he promised he would be back later and exited. This left Oliver all on his own to contemplate his future. _What future, _he thought miserably. He really felt his life was over.

* * * * *

Hermione, Harry, Sarah and Ron trudged back up to their rooms in the hotel/tent. Sighing, Hermione unlocked her room door and sat down on the couch. The paramedic hadn't let her accompany Oliver to the hospital as 'she was not immediate family, nor family at all for that matter' so she had had to go back to her room just like everybody else.

For some reason Hermione didn't want to be labelled as 'just like everybody else'. She wasn't just like everybody else. She had ran out to help Oliver when every other single person in the stadium had just watched on. Perhaps her reflexes were quicker than average but that didn't matter. What mattered was she cared and now she wasn't even allowed to sit with him. Or be there when he woke up. 

"Why do I even care?" she asked herself outloud as she stuffed a cushion behind her back to get more comfortable.

"I don't know," came an answer. Hermione whipped her head up and saw Sarah standing in the doorway. "Sorry," she added. "The door was open."

Hermione waved off the apology with the flutter of her hand. "Sarah, I'm being so silly!"

Sarah joined her on the couch. It seemed these two were spending a lot of time just sitting with each other. "You're being silly?" she asked incredulously. "I'm the one who went all weird on you! Hermione, I'm really sorry for acting so strange before."

"That's okay," replied Hermione. She groaned. "I can't believe how stupid I'm being. I'm a reporter now. There isn't time for my own personal sympathy for Oliver! I shouldn't be sitting here now worrying about his future. I should be writing a capturing article about the accident that stopped the World Cup!" She sighed again and flopped her head back on the cushion.

"No you shouldn't," comforted Sarah. "Because only people like Rita Skeeter do that. Oliver is a friend and his life is more important than anything. I actually came to talk to you for a reason," she added hastily.

"Hmm?" asked Hermione, not really paying a lot of attention. 

"Hermione, Oliver has been booted off Puddlemere United. The Daily Prophet just informed me a few minutes ago. They need you to write about it today for publication tomorrow."

That last piece of news really did it for her. Hermione could literally feel her heart sink. _Poor Oliver, poor, poor Oliver. _

* * * * *

The hospital was very white. That was the first thought that popped into Hermione's mind as she walked down the corridors looking for Room 706 which was the room that the nurse had told her Oliver would be in. 

Everything around her was white. It reminded Hermione of a muggle hospital with just as many strange looking machines and just as many busy looking people rushing back and forth in and out of rooms. Signs were posted up everywhere informing visitors where they should be going.

'Abnormal Animal Growths' said one sign to her left. Another on the right read 'Emergency Teeth Shrinking' which reminded her of her own giant teeth which she had cheekily managed to bring down to normal size back in her Hogwarts days. Happy memories of Hogwarts were not to be reminisced today however as Hermione was there on business. She was there to talk to Oliver or at least find out how he was depending on his current status. 

After what felt like hours of walking but was probably only minutes, Hermione reached Room 706. She peeked inside and found it was indeed the right room. Lying on the white bed was Oliver who was a ghastly shade of white himself.

Thinking he was asleep, she tiptoed in and sat down in a chair left for visitors and quietly pulled out her notebook and quill. Unlike Rita Skeeter, Hermione used a plain normal sugar quill. She munched silently on the end for a little while before receiving the surprise of her life when Oliver began talking.

"Who the hell is it?" he asked rudely not even bothering to look up.

"Uhh… it's Hermione Granger," she replied tentatively. She moved her chair closer to his bedside so he could see it was her.

"Oh," his face which had been sour and hurt changed quickly to a more comfortable and relaxed expression. "Hi Hermione."

"Hello Oliver," she said.

"Are you here for business or pleasure?" he asked curiously. "Because I've already had a few reporters in here obviously looking for information. They're very, very annoying."

Hermione paused. She had figured she was there purely for business but now she thought about it she wasn't so sure. She had been relieved to find out she could see how he was doing and perhaps talk to him and make him feel a bit better but was that classified as business because she needed to write about it or pleasure as she was personally affected by him? "A bit of both," she admitted.

"At least your honest," he groaned. "Arggh," he screamed clutching at his stomach. Hermione felt her heart hurt by just looking at him. He screamed a bit more before the screaming turned to dull sobs and all she could do was watch helplessly. Hermione had honestly never seen anything like this before. Oliver was in tremendous pain and all she could do was sit. 

"Is there anything I can do?" she asked, leaning closer.

Oliver shook his head slightly, still clutching his stomach area. "No. The doctors have already given me as much medicine as possible."

"Why can't they just give you some spells and special tablets or something?" Hermione asked angrily. "Why is this unlike any of the other injuries you and Harry have ever had. Why could they always fix them with just a magical remedy?"

Oliver sighed. "I don't know. My doctor… Shirlington or something just said that this was more serious than a few broken bones and that proper procedures were necessary. He also mentioned I would be in here for quite some time." Oliver paused after that before continuing. "I guess you already heard I'm off the team?"

"Yes," Hermione rested a hand on top of his in sympathy. "Oliver, I am so sorry." She knew her words would have no effect on the way he was feeling but she thought she say them anyway.

For the first time Hermione was seeing a different side of Oliver Wood. He wasn't happy or determined or angry or anything else she'd ever seen. He was purely depressed. Just depressed. 

The fact that the hospital room was so bare and boring didn't really help. There was a single window that overlooked a concrete street of London and not much else. A painting on the wall helped to make it look more inviting but seeing as it was just a painting of a vase of white lilies it didn't move too much and didn't offer a whole lot of sparkling conversation. 

"Yeah well…" Oliver's voice trailed off. 

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" Hermione asked, setting her notebook and quill aside. "Are you tired?"

"No and yes," he replied. "I mean, I don't want you to leave but yes, I am tired. Hey Hermione, would you mind… would you mind, just staying here with me for a little while? I mean I'm tired and I'll fall asleep soon I can tell but… but, I'd really like you to just stay here… with me."

Hermione felt her heart hurt again. But this time it was because she'd never seen Oliver so emotional before. "Of course I will," she replied.

"Thanks," said Oliver before his eyelids closed and he drifted off into difficult slumber.

Hermione sat there with her hand on his hand for a long time. She watched him sleep but didn't feel the need to rest or stand up or move around at all. So she just sat there and was very content with it. 

"Sandford…" Oliver muttered. Hermione thought he must have woken up for a second and jerked her hand away in surprise but it turned out he was just sleep talking.

__

Sandford she wondered. _Oh yes, the boy who is replacing him on the team. Sarah did mention it._

As if reading her mind, Oliver's conversation changed. "Sarah… Sarah… no, please… please…" he said.

Hermione studied his face. Sarah? Sarah Pumpkin? What did he mean? 

She watched his face turn from relaxation to all tensed up. She couldn't help but also notice how very fine he looked no matter how sick and depressed he was. Oliver's hair was matted and messed up but still framed his face and made him look simply irresistible. 

__

Hermione! She yelled at herself. _Stop thinking about Oliver like that! There isn't time for lust and crushes right now. His life is in danger!_

After having a good heavy lecture with herself Hermione began to think about what Oliver had said in his dreams again. Sarah… no… please. It couldn't be the same Sarah. Sarah was a common name. It could have been anybody. But then Hermione remembered how strange Sarah Pumpkin had been whenever she'd mentioned Oliver. Like that night when they'd all had dinner. Oliver and Sarah? What in the world was the connection?


	7. Making a Connection

****

Chapter Seven... 'Making a Connection'

The thought of Oliver and Sarah was constantly on Hermione's mind over the next few days. She never told Oliver what she'd heard him say though she had visited him on numerous occasions in the hospital. She was finding his mood swings very difficult to cope with but knew she had to be understanding for him. Something life changing had dramatically altered his life forever and she just had to remember he didn't mean it when he told her to 'bugger off' and 'stay out of my life'. There were happier days however, days where they would spend hours talking about the muggle world or favourite school memories.

Harry and Ron did their best to visit Oliver too. They also helped Hermione a lot by jotting down notes on the 'Oliver case' for her articles in the paper. She was certainly becoming tired and run down and was struggling to stay by Oliver's side day and night and still have good standard articles in the Daily Prophet. 

After another sleepless night at Oliver's bedside, Hermione sent off the latest article to be published. She watched the small owl fly off into the distance and closed her eyes in relief. She'd very nearly missed the deadline and even she knew that the quality was very much lowering. Her handwriting was beginning to become difficult for the people at the Daily Prophet to decipher and she was making simple spelling errors. 

"Psst, Hermione!" said a voice from the doorway. She wearily turned her head around. It was Sarah. This woke her up a bit. It was the first time Sarah had been in the same room as Oliver since they'd arrived earlier that week. She simply seemed to avoid anything to do with him so this came as quite a big surprise for Hermione.

"Sarah!" gasped Hermione, standing up but doing it quietly as not to wake up the sleeping Oliver.

"Could we talk?" asked Sarah, clutching at her purple handbag for dear life.

"Sure." 

They stepped out into the well-lit corridor and closed the room door behind them. It wasn't until they were seated on some of the white chairs that Hermione noticed the tear marks around Sarah's big eyes. Her eyes were puffy with dark mascara stains clumped up in the corners. It was not her best look. Hermione reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.

"Hey Sarah? What on earth is wrong?" she asked, forgetting how exhausted she was, at least for the moment.

"It's... it's..." Sarah gulped, fighting to get the words out and hold the tears in.

"It's okay," comforted Hermione. "Take your time. Take a few deep breaths."

Sarah did as she was told and began to speak slowly, yet still fumbling her sentences a bit. "Oliver... Oliver and I we... we, well, we dated."

Hermione nodded, trying to take it all in calmly. 

"We dated for eight months... in private... that's so it wasn't broadcasted across the world... anyway, I couldn't stand keeping it a secret... we broke up..." Sarah coughed.

"Yes?" Hermione tried to urge her on.

"Hermione... I'm pregnant."

The words hit Hermione like a sledgehammer. Or worse. A really hard book from the restricted section of Hogwarts Library. She blinked back at Sarah who was waiting for a response. Any response at all. Any response that would show her that Hermione was alright with this news. Something that would be a reassurance to her messed up brain.

"Sarah... I'm... Sarah, congrat..." This time it was her turn to be speechless. "Sarah, that's big news," she stated.

"Yes, yes it is," Sarah looked down at the floor. That hadn't quite been the reaction she'd been expecting. But there was nothing she could do or say now. It was all out in the open.

"Does... does Oliver know?" Hermione had found her words again.

Sarah shook her head slightly. "Hermione, how could I tell him? How could I possibly tell him? After all that's happened to him in recent days. It would ruin him. Completely ruin him."

"Maybe not!" she protested. "It could make him the happiest man alive!"

"You don't know him the way I know him. We were together for eight months and in those eight months I learnt a lot about Oliver Wood and who he really is."

There was an awkward silence between the normally chatty pair. A man dressed in white (obviously) walked past with a rattling trolley full of strange looking utensils. They watched him disappear down the corridor before turning back and looking anywhere but each other.

"When are you going to tell him?" Hermione asked when she couldn't stand the awkwardness any longer.

"I don't know..."

"So this is why you have been acting weird around Oliver eh?" 

"Yes..."

"And Ron?"

"What about Ron?"

"Is this why you didn't want him to fancy you?" Hermione asked.

"Yes," admitted Sarah. "It's just... it's just..."

"What?"

"Oliver called me... he called... Oliver called me a 'using little tart!' one night. One of our last nights together," said Sarah. "He was drunk so he didn't mean it but the words still affected me a lot. More than he knew. And... well, I didn't want to _be _a 'using little tart' and when I found out about the baby I couldn't go round with Ron incase, incase I turned out to be a tart..." the tears started flowing out of her eyes.

"Oh Sarah," Hermione gave her a quick hug. "Sarah, you will never be a using little tart as long as you live. It's just not in your nature. And," she added. "I don't need to know you for eight months to be able to tell you that!"

"Thanks Hermione," said Sarah gratefully, returning the hug. "You've been a great friend to me. I really do appreciate it."

* * * * *

The next morning Oliver woke up to find Hermione sitting next to him. She must have stayed there all night as her head was resting on his stomach and she was sleeping very soundly. The sight of her sleeping so calmly relaxed Oliver's mind and any bitter thoughts he had been holding inside him were fading... at least for the time being. 

His leg was extremely uncomfortable but he bit his tongue and didn't move for fear of waking Hermione up. He shifted slightly and found it to be a bit better so he stayed like this, just watching her, for the next fifteen minutes. He was enjoying this until an owl hooted and came flying in the window, waking up Hermione and probably the rest of the hospital too.

The scrawny little owl pecked Oliver affectionately while dropping the Daily Prophet on his lap before flying off again ready to deliver more papers.

Oliver, who was now always up to date with the current affairs (there wasn't much else to do in the hospital besides read), opened up the paper slowly and quietly but it was no use. She was awake now.

"Urgh..." she groaned and sat up. "Morning..."

"Good morning," greeted Oliver cheerfully.

"What time is it?" she asked, wiping her eyes.

"Seven, how did you sleep?"

"Fine," she said, trying to push the memories of her conversation with Sarah out of her mind. It wasn't successful. _How am I meant to act around him now?_ she asked herself. _Just normal. Just normal. How in the world am I meant to act normal in a time like this?_

Oliver noticed the change in her facial expression. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

"Fine," she assured him. "Anything interesting?" she asked, looking at the newspaper. Hermione was over the initial excitement of seeing her work published in the paper. It still made her happy to think that millions of wizards and witches around the world read her articles but right now, she was too tired to get overly happy about it.

"Hmm..." he opened the paper. The big bold headlines flashed in his face right away. 

****

OUT WITH THE OLD-IVER AND IN WITH THE NEW!

__

An article by Hermione Granger

The hottest young sensation has arrived! After the departure of player, Oliver Wood, Puddlemere United have just recruited a wonderful, talented and dashingly good looking keeper, Tim Sandford. Sandford who is being labelled the next 'McCormack' is described by Puddlemere Coach as 'hotter than blue flames and one thousand times better than Oliver Wood ever was!' Though harsh, his words are true. And what do we have to say about this? Oliver- who?

Oliver's jaw dropped. "Hermione?" he asked bitterly. "Get out of my room," he quietly but in a tone so icy cold.

"Oliver? What?" asked Hermione feeling very confused.

"I said GET OUT OF MY ROOM!" he yelled, which absolutely killed his throat but he didn't care. How could she have betrayed him like this? They had been getting on so well! She had been the only one who talked to him. Everyone else had shunned him off and ignored him. Got on with their lives and forgotten about old Oliver Wood. But not Hermione. She had been different... or so he thought. Turned out though, she was just using him to become a famous news reporter. Somebody like Rita Skeeter. Great Wizards how he despised that woman. And now he despised Hermione Granger too.

Using every possible working muscle in his body he threw the newspaper at her sending her to stand back in shock and horror. 

"Oliver... I don't understand..." she said, almost in tears.

"Oh get over it!" he yelled furiously. "Just leave me alone!" he rolled over and ignored her. When he realised she hadn't moved from where she was standing he turned over and faced her again. "Don't make me call security!"

Hermione slowly backed out of the room, completely confused. What had she done? What had made Oliver get so upset? As she turned and walked down a corridor of the hospital in disbelief and feeling extremely hurt, a young nurse came up to her.

"Excuse me, excuse me," she said in her face. There wasn't really anything Hermione could do so she just stood there and waited.

"You're Hermione Granger aren't you?" the nurse said excitedly.

Hermione nodded. 

"Oh wow, I love reading your articles!"

"Thanks," said Hermione, half-hearted. _Who gives a damn about articles? _she thought. 

"Especially the one about Sandford! I love him so much!" babbled the nurse. "His hair, his eyes, don't you think he is so much better than Oliver Wood was? Of course you do. I can't wait for Wood to be out of the hospital. No one likes him. Oh but you knew that of course! Ha, how silly of me. Anyway, I was wondering... have you ever met Sandford? Is he as nice looking as he is in all of the posters and photos? I have heaps of them. I collect them. I liked Sandford when nobody else had heard of him! Did you know my older brother Jimmy went to school with him? All the way up north! Apparently he was just the best player on the Quidditch team! No surprises there eh Hermione? Eh?"

But Hermione wasn't really paying attention. She was still stuck on the first couple of sentences the nurse had said. 'Especially the one about Sandford'. But Hermione had never written any articles about Sandford. What was she talking about? 

"Uhh..." Hermione looked at the white name tag on the nurse's shirt. "Uh, Molly, I was wondering do you have a copy of any of my articles?"

"Yes, of course I do!" replied Molly happily. _Oh Great Wizards, I bet she has a scrapbook of important articles about her beloved Sandford,_ Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Excellent," she said outloud. "Would I be able to have a look over them?"

"Sure, would you sign them for me?"

"Uhhh okay."

Hermione waited a moment while Molly dashed off, as hyperactive as a three year old on too much chocolate. She returned about ten seconds later with a... scrapbook of cut outs.

"Here," she shoved them under Hermione's nose. Carefully Hermione flipped over each page. Yes, here was her first article. All fine. Yes, and the next one. And the next. It was funny how she had never actually seen her articles published until now. She'd simply been too busy tending to Oliver's side and trying to keep her life in order and still have time to write. Yes, and yesterday's article was right too. And then she got to today's. 

"WHAT?" Hermione exploded. Her eyes became as big as saucers as she read through the article 'she' had supposedly written. "No," she gasped thinking of poor Oliver in his hospital room.

"OLIVER!" Hermione shouted, dropping the scrapbook and racing back in the direction she had been coming from. "Oliver!" she cried, running faster than ever before.

"Hey! What about my autographs?" she faintly heard Molly calling from behind.

Author's Note: The next chapter is going to be less descriptive and more dialogue-heavy because that's how it felt when I was writing it. So I'm pretty much warning you in advance that it holds a lot of strong, intense conversation purposely because I feel it is an important part of the next few stages. Please try and picture what happens in the story in your head and try to visualise the characters saying everything. 


	8. Confessing

Chapter Eight... 'Confessing'

Hermione reached Oliver's door and practically kicked it open. "Oliver!" she cried, racing to his side.

He sat up and stared at her right in the eyes. "Didn't I already tell you to leave me alone?" he asked coldly.

"Yes, yes, yes you did," Hermione said, staring straight back. Oliver looked away.

"Oliver, I didn't write that article."

He stared at the white wall. "Go away Hermione. I don't have time for you."

"Oliver, I swear I didn't write it!" she cried.

"Go away!"

"OLIVER!" she cupped her hands around his face and made him look at her. He was so close to her now. Their noses were nearly touching. She could feel his breath on her face. And smell a faint scent of cologne. "Oliver," she whispered. "I need you to believe me. I need you to know I didn't write them."

He pulled his face away from hers. She had been so close to him. "No," he said weakly. 

"Oliver..." her voice trailed off miserably. "Please," she added in a tiny squeak.

"No Hermione, I cannot believe you," he said stronger. "Hermione, I really liked you. How could you? All for a dumb career eh?"

"No!" Hermione protested and sat down next to him. "Oliver, I never wrote them! I don't know who did but it wasn't me! I haven't written anything about Sandford! I've only written about you and the actual Quidditch Cup itself. I haven't wanted to write about anything else. Only you. I only wanted to write about you."

"I find that hard to believe," he remarked. 

"Oliver, I would never write that. Because... because I... I..." she stopped. _Three little words Hermione, _she told herself. But something stopped her at that moment. A thought of Sarah and a child came rushing into the picture. This wasn't about just her and Oliver any more. Their situation was going to affect Sarah and the baby too now. It was wrong. She couldn't say it. Not right now. Probably not ever.

She stood up and left the room and Oliver behind her. She'd tried. She had tried to explain it to Oliver but he just couldn't believe her. It was time to find out who had really written that article and it was time to hand things over to Sarah. It was Sarah who needed to do the confessing.

* * * * *

Hermione recieved funny looks from Harry and Ron that morning when she arrived back at the hotel/tent. She passed PW Wokly on her way up to her room but barely noticed him and didn't even return the friendly 'hello' he gave her. 

She arrived in her room to find Ron and Harry sitting at the kitchen table playing Wizard Chess. Ron was quite obviously winning.

"Aren't you going to say you hate me?" she muttered, throwing her bag across the room which she immediately regretted when she heard her mobile phone crack inside. Now there was no Oliver to fix it for her.

"No," said Harry casually. "Damn," he said under his breath as Ron's pawn took out another of his pieces.

"We know you didn't write that," added Ron, a michievous grin on his face. "Check mate!"

Harry threw down his glass of water in disgust. "Fifteen games to nil, that's just not right!"

Even under the circumstances she was currently in Hermione had to smile. It was just like her old pals to cheer her up. They didn't even need to try to successfully bring a smile to her dial.

"Oliver didn't believe me though," she said, thinking about everything bad in her life again.

"Oliver is stupid then," stated Harry quite matter-of-factly. "If Wood thinks you would write something so degrading and rude then he is just stupid. A fool. A slimey git. Herm, we know you and we know you are one of the most kind, caring people in the world. Now, do you want to play Wizard Chess? I don't want to play Ron anymore."

Hermione grinned. "Okay," she said, seating herself down where Ron had been. "Just promise me you'll help me find out what happened later," she said to them.

"Course we will," said Ron seriously, a grave look on his face.

"Yes," said Harry. "Of course we will. That's what friends are for!"

* * * * *

There was a knock on the door. Oliver groaned. "Go away," he muttered but not loud enough for the person to actually hear him.

"Oliver?" said a voice. 

He sat up quicker than lightning. Sarah. 

"What... how... why..." he stuttered, trying to come to terms with her sudden arrival. He had known she was at the Quidditch Cup and he knew she was looking after Hermione but he also knew she wouldn't want to see him. Not after everything that had happened. She looked weary and upset. She nervously sat down on the very end of Oliver's white bed, so far away that she was nearly sliding off the edge.

"Oliver, we need to talk," she practically whispered. Her voice brought back so many memories for him. Happy ones and sad ones. 

He nodded slowly and tried his best to puff the pillows up behind him. Noticing he was having difficulty, Sarah reached out and did it for him, just the way he liked it. There were some things Sarah would never forget about Oliver including the way he liked his pillows puffed and the way he preferred Scotch Finger biscuits to chocolate chip. 

"Thanks," he said once he was much more comfortable.

"I uhh... heard about what happened with Hermione," she started, looking out at the plain yards of concrete outside. There was not much magical about this particular hospital.

"Who didn't?" Oliver said sarcastically. "Yeah well, I can't forgive her and if that's why you're here then you better not waste your breath trying to make me see 'her side' of the story."

Sarah sighed. "I'm not here to do that Oliver. I'm here because I have to tell you something."

There was something about the way she said that that made Oliver pause. Something inside her that came out when she spoke. He had no idea what it was but he knew she was serious. Very serious.

"Oliver... Ol... this is hard for me to say," she said, staring down at her hands which was sweaty with nerves. 

"What is it Sarah?" he asked impatiently. Tact was not one of Oliver's major personality traits.

"Can I have that biscuit?" she asked pointing at the leftover chocolate-chip cookie sitting on the white tray at his side.

"Uhh, sure," he said handing it to her. "Was there anything else?"

"No," she shook her head and stood up. "Umm... I hope you get better soon."

"Thanks," he said confused. "See you later."

"Bye," replied Sarah as she went to leave the room. Before she did however she turned back to face him. "Oliver, listen to Hermione. You know her more than you think you do. Hermione has sat by your side for days on end. She cares for you. Remember that."

Though he tried, Oliver couldn't block out what Sarah was saying. There was that magical quality in her voice again... 'She cares for you'. Yes, Hermione did care for him. And Oliver cared for Hermione more than she knew. If she didn't write that article... who did? It just didn't make sense to him. His life was slowly falling apart and he couldn't control what was happening to him.

* * * * *

The next day Hermione woke up with a positive feeling. She decided to stop dwelling on the rubbish surrounding her for the day and to enjoy herself. She would go talk to Sarah about the Daily Prophet and work on trying to figure out what happened with that article. She had always enjoyed trying to solve mysteries and this was no exception. 

Hermione headed down to Sarah's room and knocked on the big door. "Sarah?" she called loudly, waking up everybody else in the hallway too.

"Gees Hermione," said Ron sticking his head out of his room. "It's six thirty in the morning. You can't be awake yet! It's not human!" He was rubbing his eyes sleepily and yawning when Harry appeared next to Ron.

"Uhh... did you two have a sleepover or something last night?" asked Sarah who had just answered her door looking as sleepy as the boys.

They all stood there yawning and groaning and staring at each other for the next minute. Then they realised how very silly they looked standing there in their pyjamas. After they got over the initial giggling, Sarah invited them into her room and they all sat down around the kitchen table. 

"Hey, she got a fruit bowl!" exclaimed Ron when he noticed the rather large silver platter of fruit sitting between them. "That's not fair!"

"Hey Hermione," began to Harry. "We have some news for you."

"Yes, we do," agreed Ron proudly, his head bobbing up and down like a puppet. "Very interesting news."

"Yes?" asked Hermione curiously. Sarah sat down with them and handed them each a small glass of orange juice.

"Well... Ron and I felt a bit sorry for you because you were so upset and tired last night over the Oliver thing so we decided to take matters into our own hands," said Harry. "And well, we contacted that Abby Folding lady that you knew and she glapparated here immediately. We told her what had happened and she was very upset about it. She couldn't believe what we told her. Anyway, she brought with her a folder of everything you'd sent her and sure enough, there were all of those parchments you'd been sending her since we arrived here, each with your unmistakable writing on them. What I noticed however..."

Ron interrupted. "Actually, what _I _noticed."

Harry corrected himself. "Yes, what RON noticed was that each of the parchment's writing was getting messier. And... then we realised it was from you being so tired. Well, it appeared to be a pattern. Started off neat, got messier, then messier and so messy that you wouldn't have known if it was YOUR writing or not. You follow so far?"

Hermione nodded her head. What were they getting at?

"And... then we realised that the quill being used changed. Just at the article that was about Sandford. The one you supposedly but didn't write. It was the same colour ink all right, but it was not the same quill. I know you're very fond of the sugar quills aren't you?"

Hermione nodded again.

"Well because you go through so many of them, I know you have to buy the cheaper ones. And the cheaper ones have thicker ends don't they? But that has never bothered you because you have such neat writing that it never makes any difference."

"Yes..." it was beginning to sink in.

"Well," Harry looked smug for a moment before continuing. "The quill changed and became much finer. Messy yes but finer. Infact it was so fine that Ron," Ron looked smug now. "Ron, noticed that it was the same quill his father used at the Ministry of Magic."

"Now these quills are very expensive," Ron added. "He won it in a raffle."

"And they are very, very hard to find!" finished Harry looking awfully pleased with himself.

"And?" Sarah and Hermione were both on the edges of their seats looking very impressed with the boy's detective work and intrigued with the story. "Ooh, don't stop there!" babbled Sarah who for the moment, had also forgotten all of the problems in her life.

"And... Abby traced the quill back to RITA SKEETER!" Ron and Harry both exploded at the same time. 

Hermione's jaw dropped. Rita Skeeter? Rita Skeeter was behind this? She had to tell Oliver!

Not waiting a moment longer, Hermione leapt out of her seat. "Thank you!" she grabbed each of the boys by the collar and gave them each a huge bear hug. "Do you have the articles still?" 

Harry shook his head. "Sorry..."

"Wait!" Ron threw some papers down on the table which he appeared to pull out of nowhere. "I," he said, straightening his collar. "Took the liberty to make copies. I remembered that Incansus Fellipiopia spell you taught me in our sixth year and made copies of the parchments just before Abby left!"

"Thanks!" Hermione gushed and scooped them all up into her bag. She sprinted to the nearest glass panel and immediately glapparated to the hospital, ready to tell Oliver the real truth. He had to believe her now. He just _had_ to.

Author's Note: Hope you are liking the story as much as I am liking writing it. See what I mean when I warned that this chapter would be a lot more dialogue heavy. It will return to a more interesting writing form next chapter, I'll try as hard as I can to make the next chapters more fascinating to read then just a plain conversation. For this chapter however I just felt it was necessary to make it more conversation-intense. Hope you understand.


	9. Falling From the Sky

Chapter Nine... 'Falling from the Sky'

Hermione arrived at the hospital and ran down the corridor that had now become very familiar with her. She raced into Oliver's room not even bothering to knock and pointed a finger at him. 

"It wasn't me!" she said harshly, almost accusingly.

Oliver sat back stunned. A second ago he'd been sitting there re-reading that dreaded article and mustering up all the anger and pain inside him that had building up since the accident and now here the wicked witch herself was, standing there pointing a finger at him. Now that he thought about it, he could not make himself mad at her. He just couldn't. Like it wasn't possible.

"I know," he found himself saying.

Hermione sat down on the end of his bed, just where Sarah had been a little while ago and explained everything Harry and Ron had told her to him, almost word-for-word. She even added on some of Ron's comments.

Oliver tried to take it all in and reached out for Hermione's hand. Their skin touched just for a moment before she briskly, pulled her hand away. As much as she wanted to touch him, she couldn't. Not with things the way they were. Not with Sarah feeling the way she did. 

"Did I do something wrong?" asked Oliver.

"No," she replied.

Once she'd said that, she got a reaction she had not been expecting. Oliver's face turned white. He looked down at his hands, he looked down at his legs which he could not feel and he looked back into Hermione's eyes. And then he cried.

He cried like he had never cried in his entire life. He used every muscle, every tiny part of him and heaved the tears out in great rivers. He sobbed harder and harder until Hermione thought he was going to have an asthma attack. He gurgled, choked, gulped and coughed and all she could do was hold him. She held him for what seemed like hours and whispered comforting words in his ears but they didn't seem to have any effect. The tears just flowed for great lengths. Oliver hiccuped and sobbed and struggled to breathe. At one stage a nurse came in wondering what the great howling was but then saw them and thought she better leave. At last, the crying died down a bit and he just sat there like a fragile baby in Hermione's arms. 

"Hermione," he coughed. 

"Yes?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Thank you," he replied.

After that there was a silence. Not an uncomfortable one. Just a silence. And it stayed that way until the early hours of the next morning.

Neither of them had dozed off but just sat there lost in their own thoughts.

__

Oh my goodness, my poor, poor Oliver, thought Hermione. _Here I've been worrying about my stupid career and stupid articles and he's been stuck in hospital contemplating his life's worth! Grr, you can be so insensitive Hermione!_

Oh man, you're such an idiot Oliver. Tell her, just tell her! No, I can't. It's wrong. There's something wrong. I can sense it. No, you better just wait, thought Oliver.

"Oliver?" asked Hermione after a moment.

"Yeah?" he asked. He felt much calmer now. Tears seemed to relieve him.

Before she could even open her mouth to continue, someone came barging through the door. It was Harry and Ron.

"Guys? What are you doing here? It's three in the morning!" Hermione exclaimed, getting over the surprise.

"I know..." grumbled Ron who looked very sleepy indeed dressed in his blue and white pyjamas that strangely reminded Hermione of the Bananas in Pyjamas from muggle television. (Author's Note: Not sure if they have the Bananas in Pyjamas in England)

"Hermione! Rita Skeeter has been sent to jail!" burst out Harry who looked exhausted from running all the way here. Seemed he and Ron were yet to master the art of Glapparating. Either that, or they just hadn't thought of it.

"What?" asked Hermione and Oliver, simultaneously.

"Jail! Abby just sent us an owl. Here!" Harry thrust the parchment in her face.

She quickly read over it with Oliver reading over her shoulder.

__

Dear Hermione, Harry and Ron,

Just thought you oughta hear the news first. Rita Skeeter has been sent to Azkaban on charges of misguiding the owl post, fraud and using her power role to her advantage. She's been sentenced to life. Apparently, the little ordeal with Hermione's article was only one of many laws she has broken.

Looking forward to receiving your next article.

--Abby Folding--

Editor, The Daily Prophet

All of a sudden Hermione's life seemed to be nearly back in order. She could only hope that everything else would soon fall into place.

* * * * *

Sarah stared out of the dark purple window and out towards the sparkling silver stars. What could she do? How could she tell him? It was break his heart. Ruin his life. 

She glanced quickly at the clock on the wall... 3:30am. She hadn't been able to get a single wink of sleep. Is this what the rest of her life was going to be like?

Things had been so good with Oliver. They'd laughed, enjoyed life, ate together, chatted about nothing, chatted about everything, visited places, learnt about new things... and it was all gone now. 

__

Just because you couldn't handle his fame. Well, imagine what could have happened if you hadn't broken up with him Sarah! Now he's not famous and no one stalks him or demands autographs, well... you could have been there with him.

It was no good dwelling on the past however and Sarah knew it. She also knew she had to tell Oliver and the longer she put it off, the harder it was going to be. 

__

I know you love Hermione, thought Sarah. "I know you love Hermione. Be happy with her. She's a good girl and a great friend. _Be happy._

She looked down at her stomach and rested a hand upon it. "Just us two now, eh? I'm sorry I stuffed up with your Dad. Don't worry, I'm going to try as hard as I can to be the best mother to you. I just hope you can forgive me when you're grown up."

* * * * *

Everybody welcomed the news of Rita Skeeter being sent to Azkaban with great satisfaction. Everyone made the effort to forget the problems revolving in their life for just one night to celebrate back in Hermione's room at the hotel/tent. It was to be their last night there... tomorrow they had to pack up and return home. Of course they'd continue to see Oliver in hospital as now they'd all mastered the glapparating (even Harry and Ron) it made life a lot easier for them. 

The best news for the evening however was the news that Oliver was allowed to leave the hospital even if it was for just the one night. Hermione arrived at the hospital that afternoon ready to help him get back. He wasn't up to glapparating so she had to push his 'mobbilachair' all the way back to the tent herself... it was going to take her a whole fifteen minutes with the chair being charmed and all.

She came and knocked on the big white door that had become as close to her as a best friend by now. Oliver called her in so she stepped in to find him dressed in normal clothes and packing a small overnight bag for he'd have to return early the next morning. For the first time in a very long time, Hermione saw a genuine happy smile on his face. His whole face seemed to light up with it too sending off a most radiant glow.

"Oliver!" Hermione gave him a quick hug, bending over to be at level with him in his mobbilachair. The mobbilachair was a strange looking white contraption that had a seat, a few strange shaped wheels and a little remote control that was attached to the arm rest. It reminded them both of a muggle 'wheelchair' just slightly more advanced and it too gave off a glow (a bit like Oliver's) because it was charmed.

"Hey Hermione!" he replied throwing his bag over the back of the mobbiliachair. "Ready?"

So they left. Very quickly. It was like seeing the outside for the very first time for Oliver. He stared up at the sky the whole trip home just watching and wishing he could be up there again. Soaring. Flying. It was like all those dreams he'd been constantly having. Dreams they were too. He'd be soaring among the clouds, lighter than a feather and with every inch of his body working properly. They were the most wonderful dreams he'd ever had but the idea of ever really being able to achieve them again was fading more and more each day.

"So Oliver," began Hermione as she walked him down a busy London street. They were beginning to attract many odd looks from muggles who passed by. "How does it feel?"

"Amazing!" he replied, still looking up at the big blue sky. His neck was beginning to hurt. "Absolutely amazing. I can smell something other than medicine! It's called fresh air!" If he'd been able to, Oliver would have jumped up and cartwheeled down the street from happiness. He didn't know a feeling of such ecstacy was possible.

They arrived back at the hotel/tent soon after that and everyone welcomed Oliver with open arms and encouraging words. Even Sarah got in the spirit and gave him a quick, uncomfortable and awkward hug. Putting all things aside... tonight was going to be great!

While Hermione and Oliver had been away, Harry, Ron and Sarah had got to work on doing some serious decorating. They'd enchanted the ceiling the way Professor Dumbledore used to to make it look like the sky which pleased Oliver immensely. They'd strung up glittery balloons that occasionally popped (giving everyone a heart attack) and when they popped bright shooting stars would go everywhere... then they'd reform and wait another few minutes before popping again. 

There were candles of every shape, size and colour floating around the room. At one stage one nearly set Hermione's hair on fire so they reduced the number of them from five hundred to twenty. It was a safer option.

The most beautiful thing in the room however was the cake that Ron had been baking earlier that day. He brought it out after everyone had finished their main course (it took awhile because they were all laughing and chatting so much) wearing a chef's apron and hat.

"May I present...zee most beauuuudiful cake you'z 'ave ever' zeen!" he announced in a terrible french accent. He placed it carefully in the centre of the table. And it was the most beautiful cake they'd ever seen. For one thing it was magical so it never ran out. Secondly it was very big. But the most stunning thing about it was the intricately detailed pictures decorating the icing on top. In the centre was a picture of all five of them laughing and raising their glasses in a toast. Around the picture that was so realistic it could have been a photograph, were little yellow stars each glowing their own different colour. It was a brilliant masterpiece and one Ron was very proud of.

"Wow," everyone breathed. Oliver raised his glass for the fourth time that evening (they toasted to practically everything). "To Ron!"

"TO RON!" Everyone clinked glasses making Ron blush furiously. "Thanks guys," he bowed gracefully causing more fits of laughter to emerge. 

They cut into the cake and had it with coffee sitting around lazily on the big armchairs. 

"This is the most enjoyable evening I have ever had," Hermione said and it was no exaggeration. Tonight had been perfect. Picture perfect. They'd all thought that the night they'd gone for butterbeers with the Puddlemere players was the best night they'd had but they had been proven wrong this evening. 

"I agree," added Sarah, as even she couldn't help but have a wonderful time.

They kept chatting and laughing until very late that night. They would have kept going if they had been able to but Ron was snoring loudly and Sarah was struggling to keep her eyes open. 

"I'm going to bed," she announced at one-thirty. "I'll drag Ron back to his room too," she added with a giggle and she pulled him off the couch and he fell promptly onto the ground. They all laughed as he grumpily stood up and let Sarah push him back to his room. 

This left Harry, Hermione and Oliver sitting there. The mood was much quieter now and a lot softer. Happier yes, but softer. 

"Well I think it's time for me to retire for this evening too," said Harry beginning to stand up. Though he wasn't really tired yet, he decided to leave Hermione and Oliver alone as it was the first time they'd been together alone in an environment other than the hospital room. 

"Alright," said Hermione quietly. Oliver didn't argue either. "Night Harry... and thanks."

"You're welcome," said Harry leaving the room and quietly closing the door behind him.

Hermione sat there replaying many of the night's moments again in her head.

"What are you smiling about?" commented Oliver who noticed the smile that had crept up on Hermione's face.

She laughed. "I'm just thinking... about tonight. Wasn't it wonderful?"

He nodded. "Yes, it was fantastic. Truly fantastic. Made me realise how much I have to live for. You guys... you're all such wonderful friends. Shall we sit outside?"

Hermione stood up and helped Oliver get out and onto the balcony. They watched shooting stars go by in silence and both found themselves wondering the same thing.

__

I wonder what Hermione would do if I put my arm around her?

I wonder what Oliver would do if I moved just a smidge closer?

Neither procrastinated on it. As Oliver carefully draped his arm around Hermione's shoulders, she moved in closer and felt the warmth of his body. It was difficult as he was in the mobbilachair but they managed to get closer even with the chair in the way. Hermione relaxed her head on his shoulder and could smell the slight scent of his cologne. She breathed it in and Oliver leaned in closer awkward as it may have been. He could smell her hair shampoo... freesia-like and wished the night would never end. Is this what was called 'true happiness', 'fulfillment of life'?

Nothing could have ruined that evening. Not even if someone came rushing into the room claiming Voldemort had returned could have spoiled this truly magical evening.

Author's Note: How's that for fluff? I can't believe I finally finished that chapter. It took me forever because after the part where Sarah was lonely and talking to herself, I just had this major blocking. I had to sit and come back to the chapter about twenty times before any more inspiration came to me. I felt it needed something romance-y in it too... can't believe they still haven't kissed. Ooh, this story is so much fun to write! Hope you're all liking it too, which by the sounds of it... you are. Thanks for the great reviews!

Another note: Please check out my latest story I've been working on. It's called 'The Not-So Perfect Girl' and focuses on the life of Cho Chang, a sixth year. She appears to be in control of her life and is the envy of every other female in the school. She's popular, gorgeous, has all the boys chasing her and is a great Quidditch player… however deep down inside Cho is hurting and the hurt soon turns to something very serious.


	10. The Morning After

****

Chapter Ten... 'The Morning After'

The next morning Hermione woke up and hopped out of bed with a bit of a bounce to her step. It appeared the effects of too much butterbeer and also a certain member of the male species still hadn't worn off her. She whistled while skipping into the lounge area to greet a dead-looking Oliver who was lying across the couch, a big cream blanket spread over his body.

"Morning Ol," she smiled.

The body groaned in response. Seemed Oliver didn't quite feel the same cheeriness Hermione currently did. "Morning Herm..." he muttered before promptly falling off the couch and onto the floor with a great 'thud'.

"Oh Oliver!" she raced over to him, concerned he'd hurt himself more. But as she bent over to help him up, he laughed loudly and pulled her down onto the floor with him where they playfully wrestled like little puppy-dogs for a few minutes giggling and rolling around. Oliver may have had the disadvantage not being able to use his leg muscles but he sure had a lot of arm strength and Hermione had to fight hard not to be pushed over!

She gave up after awhile and let Oliver push her over and they laughed loudly until they realised the extremely conspicuous position they were in... Oliver was lying practically on top of her, their hands locked in a strange half-wrestling way. They both stopped laughing and looked at each other. Hermione was about to comment on how 'movie-ish' this was until Oliver burst out laughing again spreading the laughing-disease over to her. 

Sitting up, she leaned back on the couch, quite exhausted from their little 'fight'. He joined her and they sat there grinning at each other. 

"Hey Hermione," he began. "About last night..."

__

Uh oh, thought Hermione. _Now he'll tell me it was a mistake, he didn't mean it and that he only wants to be friends. Oh Great Wizards, what were you thinking Herm? Snuggling into him like that. That was a bad move. Now things are going to get uncomfortable and you're never going to get back that adorable friendship you had with him. You just had to ruin it, you just had to didn't you? That was wrong!_

"I really enjoyed myself," finished Oliver, surprising Hermione who was just about to open her mouth with a carefully thought-out 'I'm Sorry' speech.

"Me too," she agreed looking into his eyes. Could it happen? Was he about to? Perhaps... they moved closer, their noses nearly touching. This was taking a very long time... just as their lips were about to touch, the inevitable happened.

There was a knock on the door. Oliver's face fell as did Hermione's heart. Oh well. It would have to wait. The door opened and there stood Sarah. She took one look at how Oliver and Hermione were sitting before she got the point.

"Oh I'm so sorry!" she gasped and closed the door behind her as she left.

Oliver looked at Hermione. This was just great. They both quickly stood up and chased after Sarah who was just about to hop into the bubble.

"Sarah!" they both called. She didn't hear them... or perhaps didn't want to hear them.

"Sarah!" Oliver said more loudly. Her little figure, dressed in a pretty blue summerdress paused.

She slowly turned around, tears in her eyes.

"Sarah! For goodness sakes, come back here and tell us what on earth is the matter!" said Oliver. Obediently Sarah walked back towards them. Hermione decided she better leave those two alone as they had much talking to do. She bid farewell to the pair and used the bubble herself to transport down to the dining area. Though she was still wearing her pyjamas, she found a table and sat down to enjoy her last hotel/tent meal before they departed later that day. Then she'd have to take Oliver back to the hospital too which she was sure he going to hate with a passion.

A waiter brought her some croissants and a variety of fillings, along with scrambled eggs, a platter of fresh fruit, a stack of pancakes with maple syrup dripping down the sides and a scoop of ice-cream melting away in the middle and a big tall glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. Knowing she couldn't eat everything set down for her, she helped herself to a bit of everything and enjoyed it too.

After her breakfast dishes had been removed she decided she better give Oliver and Sarah a little bit more time so she went back up but to Ron's room. She wanted to find out what had happened to him and Sarah after they left last night!

She politely knocked on the door, found there was no answer so she opened the door slightly and poked her head in. Nobody was in the lounge or kitchen area so she slowly walked into the bedroom, calling out for him.

"Ron!" she yelled. "Ron?" "Hello Ron! Where are- Oh my goodness!" she jumped back in fright.

"Oh my goodness!" she repeated and closed her eyes. "I'm so sorry!" she gasped.

Ron had obviously just got out of the shower and had just a towel wrapped around his waist. He was just stepping out of the bathroom and saw Hermione staring gobsmacked at him.

"Hermione, what on earth are you doing in here?" he asked at the same time she said "Why didn't you respond when I was calling out for you?"

She gave him a few minutes to dress when he came out laughing over their little confrontation. "It's a bit like what happened when we first arrived here eh?" he remarked with a grin.

Hermione had to smile. It was only Ron after all and she'd seen him pick his nose, scratch his rear-end and throw up over their early years at Hogwarts... seeing him not-even-naked was nothing she couldn't handle. Anyway, they were mature adults now. Not adolescent children. However it still was embarrassing!

She waited till Ron was back in the lounge area (and fully dressed mind you) before she pounced on him for the gossip.

"So what did you get up to? What happened? Tell me everything? What else went on?" she babbled as he poured himself a cup of coffee. It wasn't until he was sipping his coffee until he realised he probably should have asked her if she wanted one too. "Coffee?" he asked. 

"No thanks," she replied. "Tell me what happened!" she begged.

He rolled his eyes and joined her at the kitchen table. "Nothing happened," he said flatly and almost in a disappointed way. "Though that's not what I hear happened with you and Wood," he added with a smirk.

"Ron! What did you hear? Who from? When?" Hermione was turning red.

He laughed. "I didn't hear anything until your reaction assured me something _did_ happen!"

"Oh..." she looked away, rather humiliated. "Yeah well, nothing much happened so you're not alone on that one."

"But you _wanted_ something to happen didn't you?" Ron asked, knowing he was close to hitting the truth. 

"Perhaps," she admitted but that was as far as she was going to let that conversation with Ron go. She quickly thanked him for the pleasant morning chat and decided it was safe to go back to her room. She had a lot of packing to do before eleven and she didn't want to disappoint the Daily Prophet by being late. She'd almost forgotten she was even there on a mission for the newspaper as all of the other activity and social events taking place in her life at the moment had left her in a bit of a whirlwind. 

She opened the door to the room that was feeling like home and found Oliver sitting by the window, staring out at the sky that seemed to go on forever.

"Ol..." she rested a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh Great Wizards Hermione," he muttered. "Why couldn't I tell before? Oh Great Wizards..." he held his face in his hands. "What am I meant to do now?" he asked outloud but not to anyone really in particular.

"It'll be all right," she assured him. "I promise."

* * * * *

Sarah looked down at the huge brown suitcase spread out in front of her. She glanced nervously at the clock. Any moment now she'd have to face all of the others and escort them to the portkey which would take them all back to where they'd started. She'd have to say bye to Oliver and then she'd have to discuss everything with Hermione no doubt. Hermione was a pretty typical reporter, a bit nosy and a little bit annoying but she was a good friend and she deserved to be filled in. After all, this whole catastrophe did involve her. 

She shoved in everything she'd brought along with her and charmed it so it fit quite easily. Clicking the brass locks together she picked it up with ease and left it outside the door ready for when they had to leave. She took another glance at the clock, realised she'd read it wrong before, sighed because she'd been hurrying for no real reason and sat down on a kitchen chair and stared at the empty un-lived-in-looking room and waited. Never had she ever felt more lonely.

* * * * *

Oliver sighed as they reached the hospital. It was back to living here in hell for at least another month. He'd been informed by the doctors (finally) that he'd be on special treatment and physio for a while until his body adjusted to the charms and spells put on it to get it working again. He'd be able to walk again eventually and even play Quidditch... infact he'd function again perfectly well but it would have to come with time and until then he'd be in the mobbilachair, lucky him.

Hermione walked him back up the steps of the hospital and inside. They reached his room which had not changed one bit since yesterday and he dumped all of his belongings in the small white cupboard.

Then they stood there looking at each other.

"Well..." began Oliver.

"I suppose I better get going..." said Hermione rather awkwardly.

"Yeah I suppose you better," he replied.

"I'll uhh... see you round I guess," she said uncertainly. _Does he want anything to do with me now he's found out he's going to be a father?_

"Um... yeah sure... I spose."

"Yeah well, uhh... good luck Oliver. Hope everything turns out well for you. I mean I guess I won't be seeing you much any more, you know now that I don't have to write for the Daily Prophet," said Hermione. 

Oliver forced a smile. _Oh, so she doesn't want to see me any more. Fine!_

Hermione forced back a smile. _God Hermione, what did you say that for? Well he isn't arguing so I guess he doesn't want to see me any more. Wonderful. Truly, madly, completely wonderful. Not. Oh Hermione... you had to spoil it._

As usual both of their overactive minds were preventing them from saying any more so Hermione gave him another smile before leaving the room and leaving Oliver behind. Why had Sarah's news altered everything? It shouldn't have. Sarah and Oliver weren't dating, they were just having a child. 

__

Yeah, JUST having a child, thought Hermione as she wandered out of the hospital doors. Oliver sat at the window and watched her figure walk down the street and away from him. _You've really stuffed it up now, _he thought as she disappeared from view.

"No," he said outloud.

"No?" asked a nurse who'd just entered the room to check on him.

"No," he said again. "Excuse me!" He wheeled himself past her and down the corridor, down the ramps and down outside of the hospital. He was going faster than he'd ever known a mobbilachair could manage and zoomed past many observing muggles, all watching in fascination as the crazy looking man in a crazy looking chair raced past.

It wasn't hard for him to catch up with Hermione as she'd been walking very slowly. He screeched on the brakes and promptly stopped in front of her.

"Oliver!" she said surprised.

"Hermione," he said. "Hermione damn it... don't leave now! I want you in my life!"

"Oliver, I want you in my life too... you're a wonderful friend and Sarah's news shouldn't alter our friendship," Hermione replied... a true smile replacing the fake one.

"You're absolutely right!" 

She bent over and gave him a warm, close hug. "Come on," she said after a few minutes. "You really should get back to the hospital and I'm going to miss the portkey if I don't leave soon."

"Yeah all right," he agreed feeling much happier now. "I'll see you soon won't I?" he asked as he began to wheel himself away.

"Of course you will!" she replied. "And that is a guarantee!"


	11. Those Three Little Words

****

Chapter Eleven... 'Those Three Little Words'

Sarah, Ron and Harry all walked back to Hermione's house with her. They arrived and Hermione let out a relieved sigh as they opened the door to find that everything was still perfectly in place. Hermione quickly dumped all of her belongings in her bedroom and closed the door on her way out. 

"Well, that was certainly an adventure wasn't it?" said Harry, helping himself to a glass of lemonade from the silver fridge.

"Yep," agreed Ron though he didn't really look like he was paying much attention. He too busy watching Sarah who was merely flicking through one of Hermione's muggle magazines, truly fascinated by a picture of a muggle popstar.

"Glad to be home?" she asked, gratefully taking the drink Harry handed her.

They all replied a 'yes' in unison. Seemed they much preferred the less hectic life.

They finished their drinks and Ron and Harry thought they better make a move on. After saying a few cheery goodbyes and 'we'll see you soon' they left Hermione's house.

Sarah sat there in silence for a second sort of debating something in her own head. After she appeared to have come to a conclusion she raced out the door closely followed by Hermione who wanted to know what was going on.

"Ron!" Sarah was shouting, as she caught up to the two boys who hadn't got very far at all.

"What?" he turned around surprised to see the two girls. "Oh hullo again Sarah... fancy seeing you here!"

"Ron... Ron... I really like you. Do you want to go out?" Sarah burst out, surprising herself at her own words more than anyone else there.

Ron looked completely baffled and gobsmacked. "Whoah..." he said. "Yeah sure, of course!" he gave her an awkward hug before they agreed upon a time and place. Harry and Hermione stood back and smiled at the pair. Hermione was happy for a number of reasons. 

First of all, Ron had really liked Sarah for ages (that one was obvious) and he really deserved a kind girlfriend. Secondly, it meant Sarah trusted herself enough to date somebody. Ron was a good enough kind of bloke to be able to deal with the pregnancy thing though it was up to Sarah to decide what she was going to do about it. She had time on her side though and once she'd sat down and had a good think, she'd be able to make some decisions. Finally Hermione was happy for herself. As much as she didn't want to just think of herself all the time, she couldn't help but know deep inside that more was instore for her and Oliver than just friendship. She decided there and then on the spot that as soon as Sarah had left her house that she'd glapparate to the hospital to see Oliver. And that's exactly what she did.

* * * * *

"Hermione!" said Oliver who hadn't expected to see her here so soon after their goodbye.

"Hey Oliver," she said happily. "I just wanted to see you again."

"And to tell me that Sarah and Ron were going out?" Oliver guessed with a smile.

Hermione nodded. "She told you already?"

"I got an owl a few minutes ago. I'm glad Sarah's happy. She's a great girl. She deserves it and Ron is a wonderful guy."

"Yes that's exactly what I was thinking."

There was a knock on the door. Oliver's room was rather like a busy train station. Doctor Shirlington entered carrying a white clipboard, a solemn expression on his face. His expression changed the entire mood of the room into something somewhat more serious.

"Oliver, we have some results from your tests," he began and then realised Hermione was also present. "Uhh, would you mind leaving the room for a moment?" he asked. 

Oliver shook his head. "No Hermione can stay. I'd like her to hear the news with me."

"Very well," proceeded the doctor, looking down at his notes. "It appears the spinal damage you had is indeed clearing up, which means that yes, you will be getting better and pretty soon too. The calculations and amounts of body fluids and cleansers we found are above average which comes from your high fitness levels."

"What does all of this mean?" Oliver asked.

"It means, that by this time next month you will be back to playing Quidditch Oliver!" 

Oliver had never felt so elated in his life. The entire pressure he had had for the last couple of weeks was suddenly released like a great weight off his shoulders. Things were certainly looking better for him _and_ Hermione. The thought of playing Quidditch again and flying up into the sky on a broomstick brought more joy to his life than anything ever had in his entire life time. He'd noticed the strange tingling sensations in his legs in the last two days yes, but not wanting to get his hopes up, he'd ignored them. But with this news he knew it wouldn't be long. It wouldn't be long until he could walk along a moonlit beach with Hermione, wrap her up in his arms and tell her.

"Oh Oliver!" Hermione gave him a huge hug. "I'm so happy!" Tears of ecstacy ran down her pink cheeks.

Doctor Shirlington left the two alone and walked out of the room. This was what made his job worth doing. The satisfaction of helping somebody or in this case, _two_ somebodys.

"Hermione, Hermione," said Oliver after they'd let go of the hug. "Hermione, I love you."

Hermione wrapped her arms tightly around him. "Oliver Wood, I've loved you since I could possibly remember."

So this was what they called 'bliss'. As they kissed each other passionately, melting into one another the way they'd both wanted for so long, Hermione realised she'd never have to look for love ever again. 

Author's Note: Short chapter yes, sorry about that. There's still one more so don't stop reading yet. I hope it didn't all fall into place too easily and quickly- I didn't want to make this story too long which is why I decided 12 chapters was a good length (and you gotta admit they're long chapters). Anyway, it's about time they kissed don't you agree? I would have created more drama but to tell you the truth, I didn't want this to turn into a soap-opera either with endless chaos... Sarah and Ron, Hermione and Oliver... we're all good!


	12. A Fairy Tale Ending

Chapter Twelve... 'A Fairy Tale Ending'

A month later Hermione Granger wandered outside the backdoor of their new house and out to the back where her fiance Oliver Wood was, soaring up amongst the trees on his latest model broomstick the 'Starblazer 3000'. She waved an arm at him and he touched down on the ground before greeting her with a long, romantic kiss.

They stood on the porch and admired their 'backyard' which went on forever in great big hills and rivers... they'd bought the small muggle house for a very low price and with the help of their bestfriends Harry, Ron and Sarah enchanted the yard to look even more beautiful. 

"I never thought life would turn out this way," Oliver said.

"Me neither," agreed Hermione. "But wouldn't you agree life is wonderful?"

"Never been more wonderful."

Up above they saw their owl 'Raisin' come flying down, soaring a great arc before dropping a number of letters and a newspaper in their arms. Oliver opened up a few of the letters.

"Note from Harry... hmm... notice from the Ministry... ah, what's this?" he opened up a bright orange envelope. "Oh my goodness," he said outloud as his eyes scanned the parchment.

"What is it?" Hermione asked. 

He jumped up and down happily. "Hermione, the Cannons want to sign me!!!!" he was nearly crying.

"Oliver! That's wonderful!" Hermione joined in the jumping. When they'd settled down a bit they sat back and enjoyed watching the sky. 

"Beautiful isn't it?" remarked Oliver. "Like you."

"Aww shut up with the soppiness!" Hermione giggled, throwing the newspaper in his face. The impact burst open the string and the papers fell everywhere.

Oliver laughed and bent over to pick them all up. "Hey Hermione, I didn't know you'd written another article..."

His voice trailed off as he read it.

****

A LOVE FOR ALL (QUIDDITCH) SEASONS

__

An article by Hermione Granger

If you thought a near fatal accident could hold back Oliver Wood then you're very wrong. The one man of my life is a hero... not only to me but to many other people around the world. He proves that love is stronger than anything and our love has got us through many difficult times. Here are a few last words to some of my least favourite people:

To Puddlemere United- you stuffed up bigtime team! Oliver has fully recovered and is looking forward to spending some time... pretty much away from you!

Rita Skeeter- The truth is important. People deserve to know the truth, receive the truth and hear the truth. I only hope that your time in Azkaban teaches you that.

So to all the readers of the Daily Prophet. Take this as advice for life. Everything happens for a reason and in the end, people get what they deserve. 

Nothing can stop Oliver Wood. He has found love in the arms... of well, myself and what do I have to say about this? Three Little Words my love, just three little words. 

**__**

The End

Author's Note: *Sniff* *Tear* *Hiccup* It's over! It's all over. Everything and everyone is happy. Gosh, wouldn't it be wonderful? LoL

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed reading 'Three Little Words' as much as I enjoyed writing it. I must say it's my favourite story I've ever written, =o) So tell me what you think by sending me your reviews! I love reading them and they motivate me to write more. Now to think up another fic... another Oliver/Hermione? I'm running out of ways to get the couple together! Okay well, to finish up I'd like to say a few special thank yous to some of the readers who stayed with me throughout the whole story:

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Juvenus: What can I say? You are an absolute legend! You review practically ALL of my stories and you're so positive and kind with your words! Thanks heaps!

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Blackroseangel69: You too have given me heaps of great reviews for more stories than just this one. Thanks heaps and I hope you continue reading my next fics (which there will be plenty)

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NiKiTa-G: I'm so glad you like my stories Kita, I love yours too! I'm really happy you're enjoying fanfiction.net as much as I am and I can't wait to see more of your stuff. Thanks buddy!

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Cinder: Though you don't say much, your reviews are always great to receive. Thanks!

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Princess*n: I don't know how you keep coming up with more ways to say positive things about the story! I was very chuffed when you said I had the 'best imagination you'd ever seen': that was awfully sweet of you. Thank you!

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BabyStar: It sounds like you enjoy reading my fics as much as I love writing them. Thanks heaps and keep writing!

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Silverdragon: What can I say Sarah? You're the best reviewer, my favourite for sure! (Although I love everyone else too!) Anyway, you never run out of ways to compliment me and you seem like a really nice person online and offline. I'm so chuffed that you like my work because you know I am always blown away by yours. Can't wait to read more of your stuff and I hope you keep reading mine. Love always and thanks!

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Everyone else: If I didn't mention you individually above stress less, it's just because I don't have the time… I'll add more if I remember to. I appreciate ALL reviews no matter how short, long, good, bad, grammar, spelling, flames and all. Every word of advice helps build a story and I appreciate everyone helping me build mine to what it has become. Keep writing fanfiction people, it's my life's purpose! Thanks heaps and I hope you continue to read my other fics!


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